


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by Gaaladrieel



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, something short and sweet to read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9847001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaaladrieel/pseuds/Gaaladrieel
Summary: Bilbo is a barista at his grand-uncle's place in Dale, Acorn Coffee and Books, and lives together with Thorin, his best friend since childhood. He thought he would go back home to Hobbiton after graduating, but here he is, a few months later still not sure what to do as he doesn't want to leave Thorin, especially not now when he knows something’s wrong, and the Durins needs him.Just to add to the mix, Thorin tells him, or rather shouts at him, something Bilbo realises he’s wanted to hear for a long time, and that makes him more determined to help. What he wasn't expecting however, is that it would involve Frerin, Nori, and a break-in...





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

"Give me your hand," Bilbo says.

"No."

"Give me your hand so I can help you!"

"Thank you, but I can do this myself."

"Thorin,” Bilbo groans, “your hand is bleeding, give it to me."  
"Give me your hand, so I can help you clean it! Damn it Thorin, you're getting blood everywhere..."

Bilbo can only hear a loud sigh as he reaches up into the cupboard for the box of plasters. Grabbing Thorin’s hand, he pulls it under the tap of the kitchen sink. He holds onto it tight as he turns on the water, and as usual, and thankfully, Thorin’s anger ebbs out of him quickly, and Bilbo’s hand moves from Thorin’s wrist to holding his hand in his palm.

“There you go,” he says softly. He pats the hand dry with a kitchen towel, puts a plaster over the cut, and gives Thorin’s palm a small kiss. “All good.”

 

  
Looking at the man roaming about in the kitchen, Bilbo can't help but wonder what's happened to his best friend. He has asked, of course he has, what friend or curious Took would he be if he hadn’t, but he says it’s nothing, that the last thing Bilbo needs to do is to worry. But no minor thing would cause Thorin’s anger to flare up like that, and he worries nonetheless. And the shards of a coffee cup on the table in front of him tells him he’s not wrong to do so.

A floral cup slides across the table, and a small smile tugs at his lips. Thorin has always done what he can to keep his friends and family happy, and it’s something he admires about him. He always knows how to cheer him up, always has, be it because of something Thorin himself did, something happened at school, or just to make the already happy Bilbo even happier.  
  
And no matter how sad or angry, Thorin would always put a smile on his face. And Bilbo would always forgive him if he were the one to blame for his pout. He still manages to put a smile on Bilbo’s face no matter what mood.  
  
And it’s a shame, Bilbo thinks, how he feels he’s not able to do the same for Thorin.

He follows Thorin with his eyes, sees how the scowl on his face has changed into an emotionless expression, his movements are slow, and his sighs are heavy as he slides a hand over the table between them. The broken cup falls into an open palm, and Bilbo knows Thorin’s the one who needs to be comforted this time.

When Bilbo pats the sofa cushion as Thorin comes back out of the kitchen, a heavy body slumps down beside him. Bilbo shuffles closer, pulling his legs up and under himself as he does, and pat Thorin's thigh.

There's a sigh next to him. Thorin reaches out for Bilbo's cup and hands him his tea.

"Thank you," he says. Thorin snorts, but Bilbo ignores him, smiling as the smell of the earl grey reaches his nose, and hums at the pleasant taste and warmth.

Another heavy sigh fills the quiet, small house, and the smile on Bilbo's lips fades as he lowers his hands, setting the cup down in his lap.

"I'm so sorry, Bilbo." The rough whisper and tiny crack in Thorin's voice are like a punch to the stomach. He’s seen Thorin both overjoyed and furious and everything in between, but very rarely so upset, and it hurts.

"I know," he says softly, "and I accept your apology."

"But," Bilbo says as he puts the cup back down on the table, "don't let it happen again."

"It won't."

"And I am sorry I..."

"No, don’t," Thorin interrupts, "it's my fault."

"Thorin, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, I shouldn’t have done that.”  
“There's clearly more bothering you than me complaining about clothes, and dishes... Do you want to talk about it, tell me what it is?"

Thorin only shakes his head in response.

“Alright,” Bilbo says. “But I’d appreciate it if you talk with me next time something happens, instead of breaking my mugs.” Leaning forward, he picks up his cup of tea and hands it to Thorin. "Will you sit here and have tea with me then, and listen to the rain pouring down outside?" he asks.

  
Thorin chuckles as Bilbo's smile widen, and wonders what he's done to deserve to have someone as wonderful as Bilbo in his life.

  
"You know I'm always here for you, Thorin," Bilbo whispers as Thorin takes a sip of his tea. He lets his head fall against Thorin's shoulder, lies an arm over his stomach, his yawn turning into a smile as he hears Thorin's quiet "I know" and can hear the smile in his voice.

 

**

 

The air outside is crisp, and morning sunlight dimmed by a thin veil of clouds fills the sky with a pale, golden light, and Bilbo takes a deep breath of fresh air as he crosses the street, smiling at the feeling of the cold, autumn air filling his lungs and pinch his cheeks.

It's with a bounce in his steps he makes his way onto the sidewalk and looks up at the familiar wooden sign. Acorn Coffee & Books. The café, and bookstore, has belonged to his granduncle Gandalf since before Bilbo was born, exactly 28 years and two weeks ago. Two large flower pots filled with orange, burgundy, and purple flowers, decorates the outside of the café, and despite how cliché he thinks it might be, Bilbo bends down and inhales the sweet smell of them.

The smell of coffee hits him as he steps inside, the warmth enveloping him, warming his cold cheeks and Bilbo pulls off his coat as he makes his way over to the counter. "Tell your brother I love the flowers outside," Bilbo tells Ori with a grin as he steps behind the counter and walks into the backroom.

"I will!" Ori chuckles.

Four years has passed since Bilbo moved into Thorin's house in Dale to study, and since he first started working here, and after a lot of time, trying, and failing, it's as if everything he does happens automatically. He changes his shoes, puts on an apron with his name embroidered in the left corner, and washes his hands, before taking his usual spot next to Ori.

The worst of the morning rush is ending, but even though it's only ten, and most people enters, gets a coffee and leave, the tables by the large windows towards the street are taken. But Bilbo knows it's not long until the grumpy businessmen are gone, and tired students comes in, and retreats to the area a couple steps down, where they sit for hours by the tall bookshelves lining the wall, with a large coffee in hand, and table littered with notebooks, pens, and laptops.

As Bilbo hands over his second coffee this morning, to one of the students, he hears the door open, and the familiar sound of a cane against the wooden floor.

"Morning, Grandalf," he grins, before even looking up at the new customer.

"Oh, aren't you grand, dear grand-nephew," Gandalf chuckles.

"Have your week been well so far?" he asks as he sits down on his usual stool at the counter, cane leaning against it, and folds his hands together on top of the wooden surface.

"It has, very relaxing, even at work," Bilbo smiles, and slides a cup of coffee towards Gandalf.

“How’s Thorin?” Gandalf asks and takes a sip of his coffee, "met him just before I came here, he looked far from happy when I asked him how you both were doing.”

Bilbo sighs. “We might’ve had a small fight."

"What? You never fight!" Ori says, moving a bit away to serve a customer.

"I... I don't know why it happened..." And thinking back, he’s not sure if he really does.

Wednesday had been like any other Wednesday, both relaxing, doing their own thing. And it wasn't until Thorin disappeared for an hour, coming back in the midst of Bilbo cleaning the house, that he noticed something was terribly off. He had kindly asked Thorin if everything was well, and if he could take his clothes that laid over the sofa and on the floor into his room, his plate and coffee cup to the kitchen.  
  
Angrily, he had shouted something Bilbo couldn't make out, and thrown his clothes from the living room into his bedroom, with Bilbo raising his voice, telling him he didn't have to do it now, and _“dammit, Thorin! It's alright, I can do it, I'm cleaning anyway!"_ But it's a small house, and it had taken Thorin only four steps to close the distance between them, and reach for the cup and plate Bilbo already had in his hands. Thorin had growled that he could clean up after himself, grabbed the cup and plate, and somehow in their stubborn holds on the plate it had fallen to the carpeted floor, the cup now in shards on the table.  
  
Thorin's eyes had turned wide, the house eerie quiet, and Bilbo had stared back. When he had looked down, seen the blood trickle across Thorin’s palm, the shards of the cup on the table except for a piece Thorin had reached for in an attempt to save the cup, he had wondered if he should cry, laugh, or yell at his best friend.

He had done the latter. Asked what the hell was the matter, that there was no reason to overreact so, and that Thorin knew perfectly well how Bilbo hadn’t meant for him to clean up his mess right away.  
  
Then he had stomped off to the kitchen, dragging Thorin after himself, turned the handled on the faucet with such force the water had splashed onto the counter and himself, and Bilbo had growled at the stupid sink.

  
"Look, all I know is that something has clearly happened, Thorin has gotten more and more upset lately, but I don't know what. I will, however, find out."  
Gandalf only nods and takes another sip of his drink, while Ori moves away to serve a new group of customers, but Bilbo can feel his eyes on him. 

"He'll be alright, Bilbo," Gandalf says after an hour or so of sitting by the counter catching up, and Bilbo thinks he can only hope Gandalf's right, and that whatever it is, Thorin will tell him, let him help him. But all he can do until then, is to - "just be there for him, my dear boy," Gandalf says, and Bilbo chuckles.

"Always have, always will," he smiles.

"Seems like it was yesterday he came over to Bag End, with his big teddy bear in one hand, little brother in the other. I'll never forget the look on his face as Bella held him up, so he could look at you, sleeping in your cot."

"Until he wanted to give me the teddy bear, and dropped it onto my face," Bilbo adds laughing. He's heard the story more than once, but stories of him and Thorin growing up always bring a fond smile to his lips.

"No matter how much I'd like to sit here, and help you with your problems, or reminisce about your childhood," Gandalf says, and pushes the now second empty coffee cup back towards Bilbo, "I came to give you this." Opening his dark, leather satchel, Gandalf pulls out a book with a green cover that shows clear signs of it having being read several times.

He hands the book to Bilbo, who takes it with careful fingers, sliding them over the worn cover. It's a collection of poems.  
"How did you come by this?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Your mother gave it to me, said she had been looking through things, cleaning, and wanted me to give it to you. You know how your mother has always had a soft spot for adventure and fairy tales, but also poems.”

"Thank you!" Bilbo grins as he looks through the book.

"You're welcome, my boy!" Gandalf slides off his stool, and stands. "I need to be on my way, and you don’t need me hanging over you while you work. I'll see you soon!"

"Again, thank you! And do stop by again for coffee, or come over sometime!"

"I will!"  
  
And with that, Gandalf disappears through the door and into the chill of autumn. And Bilbo is left standing, filled with thoughts of his mother, and Thorin, and it's with a sigh he puts the book away, washes his hands, and gets ready for more work.

 

**

 

When a few hours have passed, the sky changed from light and golden to dark, and the number of customers has dwindled down to only a few, the door to the café opens quietly, and Bilbo can see familiar, dark long locks.

"Hi." Thorin's voice is deep and soft as if he's uncertain how to greet Bilbo. But his lips curls into a smile when Bilbo looks up, grinning at his best friend.

"Hey, the usual?"

Thorin chuckles and nods, and soon there's a cup of coffee with a dash of cream and sugar in front of him, along with a piece of chocolate cake. "On the house," Bilbo says and winks when Thorin looks at him with a raised brow.

"Thank you," Thorin mumbles as he takes a big bite of the cake, and Bilbo giggles.

"Are you busy tonight?" Bilbo asks after a short while.

"No, why?"

"Ori and Dwalin are coming over. I thought we could make lasagne for dinner. Do we still have some wine left?"

"Yeah, got a couple of bottles."

"Good, good!" Bilbo grins and claps his hands together. "Let me just make myself a cup of hot chocolate to go, and we can go home."

Today isn't the first time Thorin comes to the Acorn right before the end of Bilbo's shift. Usually, he comes by at least a couple of times a week, has a cup of coffee, and walks home together with Bilbo. Especially during autumn, and winter, not willing to let his best friend walk through the big park and parts of the forest alone in the dark.

Sometimes Bilbo finds it silly. It really isn't that long of a walk home, and he can take the small trip alone just fine. But there's something about Thorin bothering to come to the café and walk with him, and the feeling of comfort and safety that Bilbo appreciates, not to forget how lovely it is to have company, even though they often don’t say a word to each other. But that's just how they are, and Bilbo must admit he’s happy their relationship is the way it is.

 

**

 

"Oh god dammit," Bilbo mutters to himself, one arm reaching for the box of lasagne noodles on the top shelf. Standing up on his tiptoes, he wiggles his fingers again, desperately trying to grab the blasted box. He can feel his legs burning as he pushes the palm of his other hand against the kitchen counter, getting himself a little higher.

Just as his fingers grazes the box, a bigger hand appears next to his and grabs the box without any problem. Bilbo growls as he swirls around, his face almost pressed into Thorin's chest as he comes to a halt.

"I am able to get things myself, thank you."

"Mhm."

"Not everyone is a walking tree! Some of us actually have to struggle to get what they want.”

"It's a damn box of pasta noodles!" Thorin exclaims laughing.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"But you're so cute, all short and angry," Thorin whines, his small pout quickly turning into a grin.

"Oh, you ass!" Bilbo shouts, and grabs the wooden spoon on the counter, laughing as he lightly smacks Thorin's arm with it.  
Thorin snatches the spoon out of his hands, and holds it up above his head, chuckling at Bilbo who tries to grab it. "Give me the spoon, you tree! Or I won't be able to make any lasagne!" He tries to grab it, but to no avail, and Thorin's laughter only gets louder.

"Fine, you keep the damn spoon," Bilbo smirks as he walks over to the fridge. Grabbing the pack of meat, he shouts; "think fast!" and throws it towards Thorin, hitting him square in the chest; arms flailing, and wooden spoon flying through the air in his attempt to catch it.  
Bilbo's bright laughter fills the kitchen, and Thorin groans. Picking up the spoon, Bilbo walks over to the sink, washes it, and grabs the frying pan on the counter, putting it on the stove.

"May I have the meat please?" he smirks, and Thorin hands him the package, albeit reluctantly, and Bilbo sighs dramatically, "don't mess with my kitchen utensils, or my height, if you can't handle the consequences! You never learn, do you?"

Thorin only laughs at that and grabs the salad and vegetables from the fridge. And as he stands next to Bilbo, chopping it all up into a salad, Bilbo can't help but smile. They've barely talked since the incident two days ago, and he's glad to see Thorin smile and laugh again. And for a moment, the last couple of days are gone from their memory, enjoying the moment and each other, just like how their life together usually is.

 

  
"Hello!"

Bilbo grins when he hears the front door open, and Ori's voice signalling his and Dwalin's arrival.  
"In the kitchen!" he shouts, bending down and reaching into the oven with mitten-clad hands.

"That smells amazing! You didn't have to cook anything for us, though, Bilbo." Ori says as he enters the kitchen, a bottle of wine in one hand, a plastic bag with cheese and crackers in the other, the bag's content spilling out onto the counter when Ori turns it upside down.

"And you didn't have to bring all that, but here we are," Bilbo winks, and sets the dish with the lasagne down onto a wooden chopping board. "It's a Friday evening, Ori, and we needed dinner anyway, you know that. You also know where everything for the cheese is, don't you?"

"Already on it!" Ori says as he grabs the cheese board from the cupboard behind Bilbo. "Thanks for making dinner."

"You're very welcome," Bilbo says.

Reaching up into the cupboard, he grabs four plates, putting them on the counter along with forks, and knives. "Looks like everything's ready then, I'll go let Tho-," turning towards the living room, Bilbo frowns when he hears Thorin hiss at something Dwalin says.  
Instead of poking his head out into the living room, he turns back around to Ori who only shrugs. "Dinner's ready!" he shouts, and hears Dwalin mutter something, followed by an angry groan.

The men shuffle into the kitchen, and Ori chuckles at how quickly Bilbo’s confused frown changes into a big grin and bright eyes.

"Hello, Dwalin! I hope you're hungry!" he says cheerfully. A small "oh" escaping him as Dwalin's big, strong arms envelopes him in a hug.

"You know I always am," he laughs.

"Well, it's all on the counter, please, help yourselves!" Bilbo says. And as he turns towards said counter, a small laugh bubbles out of him at the sight of Thorin; a plate full of lasagne and salad in one hand, a glass of red wine in the other, and a piece of garlic bread in his mouth.

"Like Thorin's already done."  
Thorin winks as he walks past him and out into the living room, Ori and Dwalin chuckling as they fill their own plates.

"Well then," Bilbo says, and scoops up a decent amount of lasagne onto his plate, the salad a small tower beside it, along with three pieces of garlic bread, and Ori grins and shakes his head. Well, he is a Baggins after all.

  
The evening flies away, the hours filled with good food, wine, and company, and all the smiling and laughing makes Bilbo's cheeks hurt. But the good mood doesn't quite fully hide the fact two of his friends have things they'd like answers to. He sees how Dwalin watches Thorin through the evening, and Bilbo wonders why it seems he needs to keep an eye on his cousin.

He knows he's looked after as well, can see how Ori stares at him for a few seconds with a small, almost sad, smile before he's grinning again. And he knows why. It's as if Ori's asking the same questions tonight as well, only silently. _"Are you sure? Do you really want to leave? This house, town, your job... Us? Why now?"_   They both knew the day would come, but after telling Ori about his thoughts and plans, and after realising something has happened to Thorin, he's no longer sure what to do, or where he should be. He wants to go back home, not that he has anything against living in Dale, but he’s thought for a while now might be the time. But he can’t leave Thorin. Not now, when there’s clearly something wrong, not before he knows what it is, or better, before it’s been dealt with.

But he pushes it all away, and throws a cracker at Thorin when he tells the story of how Bilbo slipped on the muddy path and fell right onto his bum as they walked home from the café earlier that week.

"You just suddenly disappeared!" Everyone's laughter is loud, and Bilbo groans, and throws more crackers at the people on his sofa.

"Well of course I did, it was slippery! And it took you several minutes to help me up, only stood there laughing at me!"

"It was hard not to," Thorin snickers. "I'm sorry for laughing at you," he says after a moment and holds out the bowl with chocolate. Bilbo snorts, but it doesn't take long before a smile lights up his face again and he grabs a few. "It's alright," he mumbles, mouth full.

 

  
"Thank you guys, for dinner," Dwalin says as he gets up from the sofa. "And a lovely evening, as always!" Ori adds.

"You're leaving already?"

"It's 1 am, Thorin," Dwalin smiles. "Tired after work, and so much good food isn't helping." He ruffles Bilbo's curls, again thanking him for the wonderful meal, and Bilbo waves a hand to tell it’s nothing.

They say their goodbyes, and Bilbo follows them out the door, closing it quietly behind himself. And it's as he stands there on the steps, watches the couple disappear into the night, and sees how Dwalin wraps the scarf around Ori, kisses his cheek, and puts his arm around his waist, and sees how Ori smiles up at him, he wonders why he, or Thorin, doesn't have what they do. He knows Thorin has been in a couple relationships, but none has lasted long, and Thorin has never cared much about the ones he's dated, or that he isn’t dating anyone.

He hasn't really been luckier himself, only a couple of dates through the years. Sometimes he would’ve liked to have a partner, but at the same time, he can’t find it in him to care that he doesn’t have one. Also because deep inside, he believes he already has everything he could want, and need, but rarely admits that to himself, worried he’ll be disappointed if he can’t have more.

The night air wraps itself around him, and Bilbo realises how cold it really is. The air is crisp and leaves icy kisses on his nose and cheeks. It smells of autumn, of leaves and wet dirt, of burning firewood. Thorin had lit the fireplace after dinner, and the smoke rising from the chimney and the smell of it reminds Bilbo of home, of evenings with his parents in front of the fire, with a large mug of hot chocolate in his hands. And all that he's been thinking about lately washes over him anew.

Hobbiton, and Bag End, is a place he misses terribly. Certain memories, feelings, smells, and tastes, reminds him of home. And breathing in the cold air filled with the smells of autumn reminds him of so much.

He thought he'd come back right after graduating. But here he is, months after, still living in Thorin's house, and not yet ready to go. It was just supposed to be temporary, living here, and it still is, it's just he now doesn't know how long it's for.  
He thought everything was all right, that Thorin was doing well, but the past couple weeks tell another story. And he doesn't know if now is the best time to leave his best friend, no, it really isn't, he knows he should stay, stay here with Thorin. Help him with whatever it is that's happening, help him get through and make sure everything's okay. Then he can go back to Hobbiton. Maybe it’s time for Thorin to go back as well.

The door opens quietly, and Bilbo hears Thorin step outside, stopping next to him. "What are you doing outside still? It's freezing!"

"But it's a good cold, don't you think?"

"You've been out here for too long."

"Feel it, smell it, breathe it in now, come on,” Bilbo chuckles and takes a deep breath. Thorin cocks an eyebrow while taking a deep breath.“It smells how autumn always smells, and of burning wood. Smells like home," Bilbo says.

It’s with a heavy sigh Thorin thinks he’s right. It does smell like autumn and reminds him of home. Of autumn days spent together in the forest around their houses, of Belladonna’s hot chocolate she often made to warm them up again, and of his mother’s apple cake.

"Why can't you tell me what's going on, Thorin?"

Thorin stares back at him, "hmm?"

"You- you're suddenly so angry! I don't know what any of you said, but I heard you argue with Dwalin earlier. You, you're just not yourself... Please, tell me, what's happened?"

"I don't want to burden you with it, it doesn't concern you."

"Oh, you idiot. It's clearly a too big of a burden for you, let me help you carry it."

"I don't wish to pull you into this.”

"Thorin... We've been best friends since I was a couple of days old! You know you can tell me anything! Why can't you let me know what is hurting you so? I only wish the best for you, seeing you like this... It's hurting me too."

"I... We... My family..." Thorin lets out a heavy sigh. "Our house.. We're weeks from losing Erebor..."

"Oh."

 

Bilbo takes Thorin’s hand in his, and leads him back into the house.  
“Let’s make some hot chocolate.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Why on earth didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't deem it necessary."

"You... You really didn't think it was necessary to tell your best friend that you, and your family, might lose your house?! What the hell, Thorin!"

"I had hoped we would work it out, fix this, and no longer risk losing the house, without anyone knowing."

"How long have you known about this?"

Thorin sighs. Shuffling over to the fireplace, he holds his hands out, letting the still burning embers warm them.

"I know you guys struggled with this..." Bilbo says, waving his hand, "man of some kind, but that was years ago! It's not... He's not behind this, is he?"

"I don't know, Bilbo. Look, we've struggled for some time, but it wasn't until Wednesday I found out we might lose the house... I... That's why I snapped at you, and..." His shoulders slump and Bilbo reaches out, taking Thorin's hand in his.

"It's alright, Thorin," he says, "we'll figure this out, you'll get through it. You're a Durin remember? You lot won't be so easily broken."

Thorin chuckles at that. "We will. But you, I won't let you get involved."

"Oh come on, you can't have all the fun!" Bilbo whines, but Thorin shakes his head and squeezes Bilbo's hand.

"My family will sort this out; I don't want to drag you into this. Not if it concerns some bastard who's not afraid of taking everything away from someone."

"You do know my uncle’s the thain? My family might be able to help you!"

"Bilbo... I appreciate your wish to help, but there’s nothing you can do. I don't even know what we can do. So please, just... Don't worry about it, I will make things right."

"Alright, if you say so..."

"Let's not think about this anymore right now, and go to bed. Good night, Bilbo."

"Night, Thorin..."

 

Bilbo's eyes linger on Thorin's back until he closes the bedroom door behind himself, and he can only hope that Thorin knows he meant it. He'd do everything to help him, he knows Thorin’s more than capable of taking care of things himself, but this time, he has a feeling there's a whole lot he isn't telling him, and that he's taken on too much.

He lets out a sigh, shuffles to the bathroom, and quickly brushes his teeth before making his way to his own bedroom. The moonlight is shining through the window, casting a silvery light across the floor, and Bilbo lets down his blinds; putting the room in almost total darkness.

The edge of the bed is barely noticeable in the pale light coming in from the bottom of the window, but with small steps, he walks over, only to stub his toe against one of its legs.

"Fucking hell!"

There's a deep chuckle from the other side of the wall, and Bilbo groans as he finally lies down in bed.

"You alright in there?"

"No. I hit my toe."

"Want me to come and blow on it?"

"Oh blow yourself, Thorin!"

It's quiet for a moment, before Thorin mutters, "don't think I'm flexible enough."

"Good god, Thorin!" Bilbo shouts, burying his face in his pillow. "Night!"

Thorin's laughter floats into his room, and Bilbo can't help but laugh himself.

 

**

 

It's a beautiful Saturday morning. The garden enclosed by trees is partly covered in frost and morning dew, making Bilbo's feet wet and cold as he walks over to his little flowerbed. The rose petals are soft between his fingertips, most have fallen off, while some are still holding on. He picks them up, along with the brown leaves that crunch in his hand, and throws them over the fence.

A gust of wind comes over the garden making Bilbo shiver, his burgundy pyjama pants not much cover for the wind, and he pulls his cardigan tighter around himself. Fingers tighten their hold on the teacup in his hands, the warmth wrapping itself around them and his lips as he takes another sip. Feeling the liquid burn as it slides down his throat warms him up, and pushes away the cold that's trying to settle in his bones.

Standing there in the midst of the garden, cup still against his lips, he takes a deep breath before gulping down more of his tea. It smells of wet grass, autumn leaves, crisp air, burning wood. All the different smells, that to Bilbo, makes autumn _autumn_ , is accompanied by the sound of distant waves; the roar only a muted sound of the sea he knows lies by the beaches and cliffs, restaurants with sea-view, and the east side of town.

Looking down at his feet, Bilbo can feel how cold they've become, and wriggles his toes a bit, before turning around towards the house. He drinks what's left of his now lukewarm tea, and walks across the garden, up the stairs, and back inside.

The fire is crackling merrily, and he sets his mug down on the table before throwing another log onto the flames. His feet, well, whole body really, is shivering after the short time in the garden, the warmth of the fireplace a more than welcome feeling.

Bilbo wraps his arms around himself, and walks over to the bathroom door, reluctantly pulling a now warmer hand away from the soft wool of his cardigan, to open it.

An almost choking heat throws itself at him as he steps inside, and there's a soft moan, followed by his own name.  
There, in the shower, with long, wet, dark curls flowing over the shoulders and back, and with cock in hand, stands Thorin, a smile on his lips.

"Oh for fuck’s sake!" Bilbo shouts as he turns around as fast as he can, "why can you never lock the door, Thorin!" he growls and runs out of the room, the door closing with a loud bang behind him.

The floorboards creak under Bilbo's thumping steps as he walks into the kitchen. He turns on the small radio on the windowsill, and the sound of some new popular song fills the kitchen. He can hear Thorin's laughter, the sound fading into another soft moan, and Bilbo turns up the volume.

"Seriously..." He says to himself, shaking his head, and starts making breakfast for them both.

 

**

 

There's a sound of something being put down on the coffee table close to him, it slides over the surface, and soon there's a sweet scent tickling his nose. Bilbo looks up from the pages of his book, eyes blinking to adjust to the dim lighting. Turning his head to the right, and looking out of the large, living room window, he notices it's getting dark outside, which means he's been wrapped up in his own world for a couple of hours. He pulls the blanket away, and sitting up properly, he feels how his bum and legs ache after hours in weird positions on the soft sofa, and he groans as he lets his legs fall to the floor.

And there's that smell again. And the cushion next to him dips, and he looks over. Thorin has sat down on the sofa, a cup of tea in one hand, a book in the other. He flicks a page, and with eyes still on the text, points towards the table. Bilbo blinks and then notices the cup of tea in front of him.

"Oh!"

The book falls from his lap and onto the floor as he slides forward and reaches out for the cup. "Thank you," he says with a smile and takes a sip. The steam makes his face warm, and he breathes in the fruity smell, humming at the taste. He gulps down half the cup, realising he hasn't had anything to drink since he emptied the cup of tea he made before sitting down to read.

"Want to do something tonight?" Thorin asks.

"Do what?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Go for a walk, watch a movie, piss in a cross."

"Yeah, because that worked out well the last time we did it," Bilbo snorts. "Bilbo!" he exclaims, trying his best to sound like Thorin, "come take a piss with me! Stand like this, slightly facing me, now, let's pee."

Thorin chuckles, his eyes twinkling as he looks up from his book and at Bilbo.

"Next thing I know you almost fall and end up pissing on my leg."

Thorin bursts out laughing and Bilbo chuckles as he thinks about that night. They had been on their way home on wobbly legs after a night out drinking, when Thorin had to pee and got the idea they should do it together – just like how they did when they were teens, and remembering the old days, Bilbo had thought it a brilliant idea. Until he could feel his leg get warm and wet.

"Let's go out for dinner, there's barely anything to eat here, and I can't be bothered making anything," Thorin says.

"Alright, do you want to go now?" Bilbo asks as he picks up the book, putting it on the table. His stomach roars when he stands up, and Thorin pokes Bilbo's soft tummy.

"Yeah," he says. "I think you're in need of some food."

"Shush,” Bilbo laughs, swatting Thorin's hand away.

 

**

 

The path through the park bathes in warm orange light, the streetlights leading them through the forest, and to town. The sky is almost pitch black now, only a few stars shining above them.

Exiting the park, they walk onto, and up, the road on the edge of town. Being a late Saturday afternoon, the centre of town is far from quiet. The small shops lined on each side of two of the main roads flood the town in warm light, and many have a generous amount of customers. Bilbo can see Acorn from here, and seeing the door open as customers enter the café it's as if he can smell the familiar smell of coffee, pastries, and books.

It's with a smile he gives his workplace and town centre a last look before he and Thorin are separated from it by a small park. It's a big, narrow park, the shops somewhat still visible through the foliage, and it stretches beside them almost all the way to the restaurants higher up.

The sea lies to their right, and Bilbo looks down at the small beach and the dark waves rolling towards it. He's always been fascinated by the sea; the large waves rolling towards the shore only to retreat almost instantly, and the sound of them, and the smell of it – fresh and salty and the distinct smell of the sea. It's big, powerful, and dark there it lies as a blanket around half of Dale, resting against the shores and cliff face.

The rolling waves shimmer in silver under the moon, the sound of the water brushing against sand and smashing against rocks is a loud, yet a distant murmur, as if it's making sure Bilbo knows it's there.

Walking past the shops at the end of the road, and away from the park, it's not long until they're close to some of the best restaurants in town.

"Seafood, pasta, pizza?" Thorin asks as he looks over at Bilbo, who’s all huddled up in his coat and big fluffy dark green scarf.

"Hmm... Pizza? Been a while since I've seen Bofur and Bombur."

They walk to the end of the road, and Bombur's restaurant,  _The Blue Mountains,_  a restaurant slightly bigger, taller, not to forget better, than the ones next door and spread through the centre. It’s well known in Dale, as well as the nearby towns.

Walking inside, the smell of pizza, burgers, steak and a fire in the hearth sweeps over them.  
"Oh dear,” Bilbo says and takes a deep breath, “pizza.”

"Bilbo!"

Both turn their heads towards the familiar voice, and Bilbo grins when he spots Bofur. His long dark hair’s in a messy bun, and he's sporting the restaurant's colourful uniform, black trousers and shirt.

Bofur grins and throws his arms around Bilbo. And Bilbo sighs softly as he wraps his arms around Bofur's back.

"I haven't seen any of you in ages!" Bofur exclaims as he takes a step back.

"Sorry about that..."

"No, no! I've been so busy here lately I haven't had the time to do much else."

Bofur puts his arm around Thorin's shoulders, and lead them upstairs. "So what about you two? Spending your days at the Acorn, I reckon?"

"You know I do," Bilbo chuckles.

“All good,” Thorin smiles.

"You working on Monday? I've got a couple days off, maybe we can catch up?" Bofur asks Bilbo with a grin.

"That'd be wonderful. I do, late shift!"

"Great!" Bofur says, clapping his hands together. "I'll come by in the evening then. Anyway, here's your menus, sorry I can't stick around for a chat, but the place is full tonight!"

"Don't you worry Bofur, we'll talk later!" Bilbo smiles.

"Aye, we will, enjoy your evening!" Bofur winks, before walking away between the tables, and down the stairs again.

 

 

 

Bilbo glances up from his food and only then notices how full the restaurant has become. He's glad Bofur know where they like to sit, so they're away from most of the crowd. There's still a few tables close, but the layout of the restaurant, and many small half-walls with wooden beams supporting shelves above them, most filled with a few decorative pieces, splits the restaurant into smaller areas, letting the guests enjoy their meals in peace.

From where they sit, by two large windows, Bilbo can see the street they walked up, but also the main shopping street, and in the middle on its right side, lies the Acorn. When it's not as dark outside as now, you're able to see more of Dale, and the sea a few meters below the tall rocky sides, and Bilbo realises the last time he was here, he did just that. It's been too long since he last visited _The Blue Mountains_ , and feels a pang of guilt of not having put any effort into meeting his friends or have dinner at their restaurant.  
  
Something touches Bilbo's cheek, and he quickly turns from looking at the view to glaring at Thorin. Looking down, there's a nacho chip in his lap. He picks it up, snickers, and throws it back at Thorin.

"Aah, dammit," Thorin exclaims as it hits his nose, and Bilbo chuckles.

"You looked a little lost over there," he says as he pops the nacho in his mouth, and Bilbo grimaces and huffs a laugh.

"I, ah, just thinking," he says, and is thankful for the loud "Bilbo!" that suddenly comes out of nowhere behind him.

"Did you enjoy your pizzas?" Bombur ask as he stops by their table. The man's cheeks are pink, his grin lights up his face, his short orange hair makes him stand out in the room with dimmed lightening and dark decor, and the buttons of his shirt look like they're about to pop. Just like Bilbo remembers, and both he and Thorin grin at the sight of their friend.

"Of course we did!" Bilbo says. "Absolutely lovely, as always!"

"Oh, you're too kind, Bilbo!"

"And you're an amazing chef, my dear friend!"

Bombur blushes, look down, and notice the dessert in his hands. "Oh!" he exclaims, "this is for you two!"

He takes the two plates the pizzas had been on, and sets down the dessert, a plate with smaller bites of the cakes the _Blue Mountains_ has to offer.

"Oh, Bombur," Bilbo whispers as he picks up a spoon. "You know me well I see," he chuckles.

"I know that you can never decide on what to get, so I got you a bit of everything." Bombur says cheerful, and Thorin chuckles.

  
Halfway through the dessert, Bilbo notices how Thorin keeps glancing over at a nearby table. Chin down, he looks up at him as he takes another bite of the chocolate cake, and sees Thorin wink at someone, a smirk on his lips.

Bilbo turns his head a little, only enough to glance over at the table that has caught Thorin's attention, and sees a group of women about their own age.

“Oh, you,” Bilbo laughs.

“What?”

Bilbo only looks at him, and Thorin shrugs. “They’re cute, though.”

“They are,” Bilbo smiles. “If you’re worried anyone will think we’re dating, we're just sharing a dessert, Thorin. Because we’re usually too full to finish each of our own, and I can never decide on what to get. It's a big ass plate full of cake on, what's romantic about that?"

“Why would I be worried? There’s nothing wrong with us dating.”

Bilbo looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “No there isn’t, nor do I think you’d think that,” he says.

“I mean,” Thorin clears his throat, “if we were, of course.”

Thorin looks at him as Bilbo cuts off another small piece of the chocolate cake with his spoon. Picking the cake up with his fingers, he puts it in his mouth as he turns to look at the women at the other table. He swallows the bite and slowly licks the chocolate off his index finger as he winks at the women, one of them with plump lips now in an 'o'.

Turning back to Thorin, he finds him staring at him with wide eyes and tinted cheeks.

"Who knew, even I can flirt!" Bilbo laughs.

He sees there's still some chocolate cake left and grabs the piece with his fingers, Thorin still staring at him for some reason, and Bilbo raises an eyebrow as he licks his fingers.

 

**

 

There's a shuffling sound of books moving, followed by a low groan, clinking from coffee cups, and the hissing sound from the coffee machine. The café is unusually quiet this Monday afternoon, and it makes Bilbo aware of many of the small sounds he rarely notices. He grabs the coffee cup when the machine stops making a ruckus and pours the chocolate and cream and everything the customer wants into the cup.

The woman smiles at him as he hands her the coffee, and Bilbo smiles politely back as he says "here you go, enjoy," like he always does.

Following her with his eyes, he has to admit she's quite cute. With long, dark hair flowing down her shoulders and back, a faint sprinkle of freckles over her nose just like himself, the nose holding up large, black rimmed glasses.

 _"She looks like Dís,"_ he thinks. Dís has hair and eyes like her eldest brother, her personality is a fine mixture of both her brothers - but leans more towards Frerin, the more spontaneous and wild Durin.

They're similar to Thorin in many ways, but livelier. But the quiet, relaxing side of Thorin is something Bilbo quite enjoy about him.

The girl looks up as she flips a page in her book, and smiles at him again, and Bilbo smiles back, and yet again thinks of how she reminds him of Dís. He's always thought Dís to be beautiful, and if he's being honest with himself, Thorin too, considering how much alike they are. In fact, he would even dare to say they're gorgeous, with their damn long dark waves and eyes like the sky on a beautiful day.

Dís knows as much, and when they were younger, she teased him about it, especially when they were in their teens. At that time, she also chose him to talk with about boys and sex. Before her first date with her now-husband, she even showed him her underwear and asked if it was sexy enough. While wearing it! _"You never know, you know! And despite your red cheeks, at least you give me an honest opinion, and I’m not about to ask anyone else in this house about this!"_

After a while, the girl walks out of the café, sending Bilbo a last smile before the door closes behind her.

At least Dís also know he's never really been into girls, and he can hear her going _"aw but Bilbo, she's cute! Sure you wouldn't like to try?"_ followed by loud laughter, and he would smile and throw a sugar cube at her since that’s all he has close.

The thought makes him laugh, but the sound fades into a small “oh...” when Thorin walks in, and Bilbo tries his best to push away the thought of how pretty the damn Durin siblings are.

Bilbo can feel his cheeks getting warm, and grabs a couple packets of sugar cubes in the bowl on the counter, quickly rip off the paper, and throws them at Thorin.

"What the hell?!" Thorin exclaims and laughs. "What did I do this time?"

Bilbo only sighs, and looks back at Thorin with a small smile as his shoulders slumps.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can't I come by for a cup of coffee for no reason?"

"I like to think I know you well, and you've got a reason," Bilbo says, walking over to the coffee machine to make Thorin a cup.

"I just thought I'd come and have a chat with you and Bofur when he gets here."

"See," Bilbo says and points at Thorin. "I'm sorry I didn't think of that earlier, or I would've asked you to come by."

"Don’t, Bofur called this morning and asked if I wanted to join you guys. And-."

The door swings open, and a cheerful "Hello!" tells them Bofur has arrived.

"And here he is," Thorin smiles.

Bofur stops by the counter and puts his arm around Thorin's shoulder, pulling him close. "Glad you could make it, even if only for a little while!" he says.

"You doing something later?" Bilbo asks, and place the coffee cup in front of Thorin.

"Meeting Bard."

"Ah, been a while since I've seen him."

"Yeah, he's been out of town."

Bofur lets go of Thorin's shoulders and walk behind the counter. Bilbo lets out a small squeak when Bofur wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug, Bilbo's arms automatically going around the waist of his friend. He's always loved hugs, but rarely get any these days, only if he goes back home or his or Thorin's family visits. Thorin has never been much of a hugger, and to be honest, Bilbo thinks he would be more scared if Thorin suddenly hugged him like Bofur does, or at all, he has the feeling something must have happened for Thorin to embrace someone like this.

"So what are you doing these days, Thorin?" Bofur asks when they're all sitting down at a table, both Bofur and Thorin with a coffee cup, Bilbo with a large mug of hot chocolate, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and marshmallows.

"I've been working with Balin, and rest of the family, on some family business lately."

"Ah, yeah, I'm sorry 'bout the house, Thorin. Dwalin told me."

"Thanks," Thorin says and takes a sip of his coffee, "we're trying to stop anything from happening to our house, and business. Even though the last one is more or less crumbling and has for years..."

"It'll be alright in the end, Thorin, I know it will, you'll see. And let's not forget how hard-working, and stubborn, you lot are,” Bofur says.

"I just hope we're able to work through this, I want nought but for my family to be happy, and safe."

Thorin's free hand clenches into a fist and Bilbo lets his hand hold onto it for a while, his thumb stroking the warm skin. He can feel the grip slowly loosen, and when Thorin's hand is lying palm flat on the table top, he pulls his own away and into his lap, not noticing how Bofur had watched the small comforting gesture with a smile.

The door creaks open, and all three turn towards it as Bard enters the café.

"Evening!" he greets them, with a smile and a nod, and is met with a chorus of hellos. "I'll just grab a coffee, and we can go." Thorin gives him a smile, and Bard makes his way to the counter.

"So what are you guys doing tonight?" Bofur asks.

"Probably getting something to eat, and catch up,” Thorin says.

"Having worked in the media and politics for some time, I asked if he might be able to help us in any way, so we’re looking into that later, see if he has any contacts.”

“That’s good,” Bilbo says. “Have a good evening!”

“Thanks, you two,” Thorin smiles.

The legs of the chair scrape against the wooden floor as Thorin slides it back and rises from his seat. He picks up his paper cup still half-full and walks over to the door where Bard is now waiting.

"Movie, then take away?" Bofur asks after a moment of silence. "Just like 'em old days," he chuckles.

"Aah, that would be great!" Bilbo grins, "burgers?”

"Let's go!" Bofur says cheerfully and gets up from his seat.

 

**

 

They sit on the sofa with their legs crossed, a box of food in their lap, and wine glasses on the coffee table. They can hear the front door open, but none of them can be bothered looking up, both too wrapped up in the movie some TV channel is showing. Until the footsteps come closer, and Bilbo senses someone watching them.

"Want some?" he asks, looking up at Thorin.

He sits down next to him on the sofa and takes a bite of the burger Bilbo is holding out for him.

"Busy this weekend?" Thorin asks after a while, his hand moving from lying on his thigh to Bilbo's neck. 

"No, why?" Bilbo asks, and hums as thorin begin to comb through his curls with his fingers. 

"Thought we could get some friends together one evening, been a while."

"I'd like that," Bilbo smiles.

“I’m coming,” Bofur says around a mouthful.

“Good,” Thorin chuckles.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Bilbo, can you please clean the tables down by the books?"

"You now I can, Dori," Bilbo smiles. He grabs a clean wet cloth, some spray, and walks out from behind the counter.

It's midday, the morning rush passed with a flurry of people on their way to work, students looking for somewhere to study, and now, only a few people occupy the chairs and sofas. Walking down the two steps to Acorn's more relaxed area, Bilbo sees a young couple having coffee on one sofa, a mother and her daughter reading in the other.

There's a small fire burning in the fireplace by the sofas, the warmth adding a homely and cosy feeling to the café, one of the reasons why it's so popular in the first place. Along with its rich, excellent coffees, hot chocolate, cakes, and food. And let's not forget the books! Walking towards the tables at the end of the lower part of the Acorn, Bilbo walks past the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, five wide shelves are lining the wall, three more covering the far wall.

"Here, let me do that."

Bilbo jumps at the voice and turns towards it. "Ori! You scared me."

Ori giggles, and bends down to put yet another mug on the tray with dirty mugs and plates on the table Bilbo had stopped by.

"Well if you didn't look at the books all the time, you might notice people,” he says, and Bilbo lets out a small laugh.

“I’m sorry, but do what?” Bilbo asks, remembering what Ori had said.

“Clean the tables.” He reaches out and takes the cloth and spray from Bilbo’s hands. “You worked overtime yesterday, and you’ve worked hard today. So go home early for once.”

“But I’m…”

“Go on now. I know it’s an hour early, but shoo, out with you!” Ori says, waving his hands as he does, a grin lighting up his face as usual.

“Alright, alright,” Bilbo chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“I’ll be here waiting for you!”

 

 

**

 

He can hear the waves to his left, the soft sound of small waves washing over the sand, splashing against rocks. He hasn’t been down there in a couple months, and if it hadn’t been for the dark and rain, he would’ve taken the longer way home so he could’ve walked along the beach. But that will have to wait. Instead, he takes another path than usual, still not quite along the beach, but much closer.

But it’s wet and slippery, and as he walks up the small path, eyes on Thorin’s house not far away, he suddenly loses his footing. A small yelp escapes him as his feet slides on the wet grass and mud, and he falls down on his hands and knees.

“Fuck.”

Pushing himself up again, Bilbo groans as he wipes the mud from his hands on his jeans. Taking a deep breath, he stands up straight and keeps walking, eyes now on the road ahead.

As he gets closer to the house, he can see Thorin through the living room window, pacing back and forth, phone in one hand, the other clenched into a fist. His voice grows louder, making Bilbo stop on the top of the stairs.

_“We haven’t done anything! It’s that bastard and his people that should suffer, not us!”_

_“I will do what I can to stop Smaug!”_

He stands still for a moment, listens to Thorin until his voice grows quiet and he’s sure the phone call is over. As quietly as he can, Bilbo walks down the stairs, before stomping back up again.

“Hey,” Thorin says with a smile when Bilbo walks inside. He looks tired and angry, but only for a moment before his frown smooths out and his smile grows.

“Hey,” Bilbo smiles. He toes of his shoes and hangs up his satchel and jacket on one of the hooks by the door before walking into the living room.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Bilbo looks down at his jeans and hands. “I fell.”

“You walked by the beach again didn’t you?”

“I… Yeah,” Bilbo says frowning. “How-?”

“I walked there yesterday, the other one back, and that one’s just fine.”

“I’ll walk there tomorrow.”

“Please do, or you’ll end up in the ocean one of these days. Go take a shower, I’ll make us some dinner,” Thorin says and turns to walk to the kitchen.

Bilbo lets out a small laugh. “Why would I fall into it, I think I can walk next to the ocean just fine,” he mutters as he closes the bathroom door behind himself.

 

 

**

 

 

“I’m telling you, Gandalf, there’s something going on with that Smaug guy again!”

“And I’m telling you that there isn’t anything I can do to help. Despite how much I’d like to!”

“But there has to be something I can do!”

“Bilbo…” Gandalf sighs. He rubs a hand over his face, takes a sip of his coffee, and leans back in his chair.

It’s almost noon, and Bilbo is grateful to sit down for a bit after a busy morning.  
Gandalf had come in just as Bilbo had grabbed something to eat, along with a cup of tea, his granduncle being grabbed by the arm and pulled to the table with a hissed _“we need to talk!”_

And now it looks like he’s more than ready to flee from his own coffee shop, away from Bilbo’s _“rambling and suspicious thoughts about something he should leave alone.”_

“I’m sure it’s him who almost burned Erebor down to the ground, who’s tried to take their mines, ruin their company! I just know it!”

“Bilbo,” Gandalf sighs yet again. “There’s nothing you can do about it if it’s truly him who’s behind all this… There’s no proof. The Durins have tried to take him down for many years with no luck, one of the reasons being lack of proof. You know this.”

“So what can we do to prove it’s him? Is there a way to get any kind of proof?”

“There’s no we, Bilbo. I’ve had my share of this mess in the past. And you can only be glad you’re not a part of this, keep it that way!” Gandalf says, and Bilbo groans.

“But,” he smirks, “the police might not have had any reason to investigate further, that doesn’t mean no one else can’t. Say, anyone could break into Smaug’s office. And you know, technology these days…”

“I don’t get it.”

“I think you know someone who might be able to help you, you’ll see.”

Bilbo still doesn’t quite get it. But when he opens his mouth to ask what Gandalf mean, the man only glares at him and starts eating again, before reminding him of the lunch rush about to begin.

 

 

**

 

Acorn is quiet, lit up by a few dimmed lights, and Bilbo is the only one present. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, thankfully, as his head is still spinning with thoughts on how he can help Thorin and his family get Smaug out of their lives for good. He hasn’t come up with any good ideas yet and is still trying to figure out what Gandalf meant with breaking into Smaug’s office. Well, he knows what he meant by breaking in, just not why.  

Bilbo sighs, and bends down behind the counter to get his satchel. The bell over the door rings just as he grabs it. “Sorry, we’re closed!” he says loudly.

“I know, but I was nearby and I saw you in the window, so I thought I could walk home with you.”

He jumps up at the familiar voice and grins as he sees the radiant smile and long, sandy blonde hair. “Frerin!” he exclaims and runs towards Thorin’s younger brother.

Frerin laughs, his arms flying out to the sides before wrapping them around Bilbo.

“Gosh, it’s been ages!” Bilbo mumbles against Frerin’s shoulder.

“It has.”

Frerin plants a kiss on Bilbo’s cheek as he pulls away. “I’ve missed you lil Bilbs,” he laughs.

“I’ve missed you too Frer, but not that nickname.” Bilbo’s smirk grows as Frerin’s laughter gets louder, and both lets out a small happy sigh.

“What brings you to town?”

“I heard there’s a party happening tomorrow!”

Bilbo snorts, “of course, if I knew that’s what it would take to bring you here, I’d asked Thorin to have one sooner.”

“You know I always like a good party!” Frerin smirks, and it’s met with laughter.

 

 

**

 

 

As they make their way home, Frerin tells Bilbo about his latest travels, work, and everything in between, while Bilbo shares his worries about the Durins' struggles, and sighs in frustration as he recounts the conversation he had with Gandalf earlier.

“I’m sorry, I’m killing the good mood, aren’t I...”

Looking over at Frerin, he’s worried he’s stepped over the line, that he’s pried too much. But Frerin’s expression is far from hurt or angry, and Bilbo can see the smirk growing as Frerin turns his head to look at him.

“Fucking brilliant, Bilbs!” he exclaims and claps, and Bilbo’s eyes widen at the sudden excitement.

“What is?”

“And as usual, you don’t listen to yourself,” Frerin sighs loudly. “I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about that earlier.”

“Thought about what?”

“Breaking into Smaug’s office of course! Bless Gandalf, that sneaky bastard.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about doing that?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s stupid! And what if you get caught?!”

“We won’t get caught if we break in in the middle of the night.”

“There’s no we, Frer,” Bilbo sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

“We’ll get Nori with us, he can break us in. And he can help me get documents and emails from the computer.”

“No.”

“You can see if you find anything else that’s interesting, or just keep watch.”

“No, I, no. That’s not happening.”

“I’m glad we had this talk Bilbs, thank you for telling me about your chat with Gandalf,” Frerin says as he walks up the stairs to the house.

“I’m starting to regret that.”

“And I’m glad we now have a plan that will most likely take this bastard down, if we find something of value, something that says he’s behind everything, of course. I don’t think it’ll be a problem, though.”

“I – we, no.”

“Don’t tell Thorin, he wouldn’t be too happy about this. Amazing he actually hasn’t thought about breaking into that place. You know, since he is who he is, always have to fix things, never think twice. I guess it’s a good thing not even he’s enough of an idiot to do such.”

Bilbo glares at the door in front of him, then at Frerin. “You won’t say anything either, understood?”

“Understood,” Frerin nods.

Letting out a loud sigh, Bilbo opens the door.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come by the Acorn today!” Thorin says from the kitchen as soon as they step inside, and Bilbo can hear him stirring in a pot. “But I thought I could have dinner ready for when you got home.”

“It’s alright!” Bilbo toes of his shoes, hangs up his coat, and steps inside the living room. “I got home safely.”

“Much thanks to me,” Frerin chuckles, “you’re welcome.”

“Frerin?” Thorin comes into the living room, a whisk in one hand, oven mitts in the other. “What are you doing here?”

Frerin drops his bag down by the sofa and shrugs of his coat. “Nice to see you too, brother.”

He walks past Bilbo and his brother, and into the kitchen. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks, giving the salad on the counter a sceptical look.

“I didn’t really think anyone else would join us for dinner, but I guess there’s enough.”

Looking through the oven door, Frerin sees a large turkey, and snorts. “No, you just cooked enough turkey for the entire Durin clan.”

Bilbo perks up at the mention of turkey and follows Thorin into the kitchen. “You’ve cooked turkey? I’ve wanted some for over a week!” Bilbo exclaims. “Just couldn’t be bothered making any,” he shrugs.

“I ah, yeah, so I heard.” Thorin rubs his neck, and a small smile on his lips.

For a moment, Frerin wonders if he has to close his eyes as Bilbo’s smile lights up the room. He lets out a groan and turns around to take out three wine glasses from one of the cupboards.

“Why do everything always fall on me, why do I have to solve everything,” he mutters as he puts the glasses on the counter.

 

 

**

 

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Frerin says as he scoops the last of his meal onto his fork, “I love my sister and the rest of my family, but a week with them is all I can take right now.”

Bilbo laughs into his wine glass and drains what’s left of the red liquid.

“So you’ve come here to bother us instead.”

“Oh Thorin,” Bilbo sighs, “be nice.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you brother,” Frerin says. “And you’ve missed me, so me being here should only make you happy.”

“You know I have.”

Chuckling, Thorin ruffles Frerin’s hair, and Bilbo is struck with the thought of how familiar this is. The three of them has spent so much time together ever since Thorin and Frerin first visited Bilbo, resulting in Bilbo being more like the third brother. And when younger, Thorin would often ruffle Frerin’s hair, as a way of affection or annoyance, and the youngest would always see it as the latter.

But Bilbo knows that, as they both got older, and the amount of affectionate gestures lessened, Frerin grew to appreciate them more. So it’s no surprise to Bilbo that he finds himself smiling at the sight of the brothers, both grinning, Frerin’s hair now a mess, eyes full of stars as he looks at his older brother.

 

 

**

 

 

“Pizzas?”

“Talked with Bofur, he’ll bring some.”

“Wine?”

“Here,” Bilbo says, pointing at the fridge.

“Beer?”

“Also in the fridge,” Thorin smiles with a shake of his head.

“When are people coming?”

Just then, the doorbell rings and Frerin jumps down from where he’s been sitting on the kitchen counter. He runs towards the door, pushes Thorin away so his side crashes against the wall, and both laugh as Frerin flings the door open.

They’re met with a stack of pizza boxes, and Bofur’s smiling eyes looking back at them from over the boxes. “Hey lads!” Bofur grins and Frerin grabs a couple of the pizzas before moving aside to let him in.

It doesn’t take long before the living room’s filled with people, talk, laughter, and the sound of bottles being opened and glasses clinking against each other. Thorin, Frerin, and Dwalin, with Ori on his lap, is occupying the largest sofa, Bard and Thranduil the other, while Bofur’s taken the chair and Nori one of Bilbo’s big pillows to sit on.

Bilbo leans over the table and makes his own small tower of pizza slices on his plate. Settling down on one of his big pillows in front of where Thorin is sitting, he takes a sip of his wine and munches happily on the lovely pizza Bofur brought over. His friend, always the thoughtful one, made sure to bring one of his favourites; filled with ham, bacon, cheese, and mushrooms.

“Oh dear, Bofur,” he says around a mouthful, and Bofur laughs.

He stretches his legs out and nudges Bilbo’s foot with his. “I take it you like it then?”

“It might be even better than it usually is.”

He lets out a small mixture of a hum and a moan, and Frerin snorts at the sight of his brother’s eyes going wide, if only for a second.

“Bombur says hello, by the way, poor thing had to work today,” Bofur chuckles.

“You better give him a hug from me for this!”

“So Nori,” Bofur says as he nudges Nori’s thigh with his foot, “what are you doing these days?”

“Believe it or not, he’s working at Balin and Dáin’s law firm,” Ori says, and both Nori and Dwalin laughs.

“Finally trying to be on the right side of things,” Frerin adds.

“Oy! I’ve always been on the right side of things!” Nori exclaims and throws the cap from his beer bottle at Frerin, who crashes against his brother’s side as he tries to avoid it, his laughter growing in volume.

“It’s just that not everyone is fond of their employees being there to work undercover, or people sneaking in to get information...”

Thranduil chuckles, “and at night...”

“Maybe you can do it in a slightly more legal way now.”

Nori points a finger at Bard and smirks, “damn right.”

 

  
With a groan, Bilbo gets up from the floor, puts his empty plate on the table, and walks to the kitchen. He doesn’t notice Frerin jump up from the sofa as he does, or that he follows him.

“Bilbo!” he hisses as he stops behind him, and Bilbo lets out a small squeak as he jumps, and turns to face Frerin.

“What the hell, Frer!”

“Sorry,” Frerin says as he rubs his beard with a smirk, “but this is perfect!”

He looks so excited that Bilbo finds it hard to be angry with him for scaring him so. It might be the alcohol’s fault as well. Frerin smiles even more after a couple drinks, and the way his eyes shines and are starting to droop, tells Bilbo he’s had a bit more, and he also finds it easier to forgive, his mind happy and relaxed and can’t be bothered to care.

“What is?” he asks and turns to the fridge. Frerin throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls himself close as Bilbo reaches for two wine bottles.

“Didn’t you hear everything about Nori?” Frerin whispers, the warmth of his breath and the smell of beer making Bilbo’s nose twitch.

“I did, and?” He shuts the door to the fridge and steps back, Frerin hanging onto him and holding him back so he won’t walk out of the kitchen just yet.

“I know he’s supposed to be all proper and such now, but I know he wouldn’t mind helping us, just for the thrill of it. And to help my family, of course, at least I think so. Bilbs, we’re pretty much all set to take that bastard Smaug down!”

Bilbo can sense both the anger and excitement in Frerin’s hushed voice, and for a moment, his heart beats faster at the thought of what Frerin’s talking about.

“I’m not doing this, Frer.”

His arm slides away from Bilbo’s shoulders, only his hand holding on, and Frerin looks confused back at him as he steps in front of him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s too dangerous!” Bilbo hisses before lowering his voice. “I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t even know what to do!”

“Oh,” Frerin chuckles, “well, not much really. Help us find anything useful, you can look through drawers while we take what we can find on the computer. And stand watch maybe.”

“I don’t like this, Frer...”

“But you’d like to help us, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I’d like to help you, you idiot! But breaking in and stealing isn’t exactly on the top of my list of ways to help!”

“This awful man is a threat to our family. You’ve seen what it does to Thorin. Wouldn’t you like to help him?”

Bilbo stares at him for a moment, raises an eyebrow, and sighs. “Clever. Making me feel bad to get me to help you.”

Frerin has the decency to look a bit ashamed and rubs his neck as a smirk grows on his lips.

“Let’s forget about all this for tonight, and we’ll talk about it later. Alright?”

“That’s my Bilbs!” Frerin exclaims with a grin, and his arm is once again thrown around his shoulders as he’s pulled into a tight hug.

 

"I need more wine," Bilbo says when Frerin lets go and walks over to his abandoned pillow, moves it a fraction with his foot, and settles down onto it. Just as he sits down, he feels something behind his back and turns to see Thorin holding onto a smaller pillow, pushing it down between Bilbo’s back and the sofa. Thorin only smiles as he let go of it, and Bilbo leans back, happy with his now much softer spot on the floor.

The bottles touch the floor with a soft thump and Bilbo reaches out to grab both his and Thorin’s wine glasses on the table. He fills up his own with white, and Thorins with a deep red Pinot Noir.

“You drink too fast, Master Baggins.”

“And you too little, Mister Durin,” Bilbo says as he hands him his wine glass, and Thorin chuckles.

Leaning back into the pillows, Bilbo sighs happily, enjoying the taste of his wine, the upbeat but relaxing music in the background, and the conversations around him, everything from what everyone’s been doing lately, to food and restaurants in Dale, to Christmas, which Bilbo thinks is a bit too early to talk about. Even Hobbiton is mentioned, and Bilbo ignores the look he knows Ori is giving him.

At one point late in the evening, Frerin ends up on the floor, on his stomach partly over Bilbo’s legs, and Bilbo slides more and more to the side because of the constant nudging from Frerin, until his head is resting against Thorin’s knee.

“You better stop that Thorin, or Bilbo here will fall asleep soon,” Bofur chuckles.

“Noo,” Bilbo whines softly, “don’t stop.”

Thorin’s fingers are hidden in Bilbo’s hair, gently massaging and stroking the skin, sliding through the curls. It’s something he’s always done, ever since they were young and Bilbo did it to him, telling him how much he loved it when his mama did it and wanted Thorin to feel how nice it was. It’s one of the few physical touches between them, and Thorin thinks it’s one way of showing how much he cares for Bilbo. Thinking about it, it’s something he usually does when they’re both curled up on the sofa reading or watching TV.

Sometimes, it makes Bilbo fall asleep. And him being slightly drunk is alone enough to make him fall asleep. Thorin stops the movements of his hand, chuckling when Bilbo rubs his head against his knee. “Maybe it’s time for you to go to bed, Bilbo.”

Bilbo begins to protest, and Bofur laughs at the adorable frown appearing, but he yawns and blinks, and Thorin can’t help but smile when two dark tired eyes look up at him.

“I can’t, I’m stuck.”

Nori slides his foot over the floor to where Frerin’s lying and uses his toes to tickle his side. Frerin only rolls over, his head stopping on Bilbo’s thighs, and Bilbo begins to stroke Frerin’s hair.

“Wake up you bastard, so I can go to bed,” he says, pinching his ear.

Frerin rolls away with a growl, pushes himself up from the floor into a sitting position, and looks at everyone confused for a moment.

“Alright, get off the sofa,” he says with a wave of his hand. He sits down between Thorin and Dwalin, and before anyone can move or say anything, he falls back asleep.

Bilbo giggles as he gets up, grabs a blanket that’s lying beside the sofa and lies it over Frerin.

“Night, Thorin,” he says, his hand sliding up Thorin’s arm as he walks past, ending in a soft pat on his shoulder, “night everyone!”

“Night Bilbo!” everyone says with a smile.

 

 

**

 

“Good morning, Tho-.” Bilbo stops, with a hand on his door handle, a foot in the air over the threshold. “I hope you haven’t been sitting here since last night.” 

He’s greeted with laughter, and pulling his cardigan around himself, happy he’d gotten dressed even though it’s just his pyjamas, he walks out into the living room.

“Don’t you worry,” Bofur says, “Frerin and Nori have slept on the sofas, while the rest of us left not long after you went to bed. Ori, Dwalin, and I came over half an hour ago.”

“Oh. I apologise for not getting up earlier. Or made any breakfast for you!” Bilbo’s eyes go wide then, and he rushes over to the kitchen. “Breakfast! Let me make us some breakfast!”

“Gosh, relax Bilbs, it’s already been taken care of,” Frerin says. But Bilbo doesn’t stop, and walks straight into Thorin as he enters the kitchen in his unnecessary haste.

“Good morning, Bilbo.”

Thorin’s voice is dark, and a tad hoarse, and Bilbo smiles when he looks up at his tired eyes and soft smile. “Morning,” he says, taking a step back.

“I’ve made some toast, warmed some bread rolls, and found some spread already. But you can help me carry it out to the living room if you want. “

“Oh! How lovely, Thorin. Yes, yes, let me help you.” He takes the plates of food, and follows Thorin to the living room, more than ready for some breakfast.

 

 

**

 

 

Bilbo curls his toes inside his woollen socks, too big for his smaller feet. He’s loved them ever since his mother knitted them for his father, and decided to take them from him when he moved out.

The sky outside is grey, and through his bedroom window, he can see the fog seep through the branches. It’s typical autumn weather, the kind Bilbo loves, but no matter how the weather is right now, he needs to go for a walk. He feels tired, hungover, and full after breakfast, and itches for some fresh air. He pulls on a pair of soft, black trousers, his brown leather boots, and walks back out to the living room.

“I’ll just go for a walk, get some fresh air, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Have a nice walk!” Bofur says.

Thorin turns around from where he’s sitting on the sofa to look at him. “Alright,” he says, “be careful, and don’t walk on those muddy paths.”

“I won’t, I’ve fallen twice already, that’s quite enough,” he chuckles.

 

 

**

 

 

Thirty minutes go past. Then an hour, and there’s still no sign of Bilbo. Thorin looks at his phone yet again, tries to call one more time. But no answer.

“Where the hell is he?!” he growls. He strides towards the door, pulls on his shoes and coat.

“Do you want any of us to come with you?” Frerin asks from where he’s sitting on the sofa wrapped in blankets.

“No,” Thorin answers. “Stay here in case he comes back.”

The door closes with a loud bang, and Frerin tries to call Bilbo again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do like I did when editing this chapter, and listen to waves on [Soundrown](http://soundrown.com//) fits the beginning ;)

Brown leaves crunch under his boots as he steps off the path, he pushes away a couple of branches, and the sound of the waves becomes louder as he steps out from the trees and off the grass. The sand is soft under his boots, and Bilbo kicks it up in the air as he walks away from the edge of the park.  
He stops not far from the water; the fog is thicker down here and lies as a blanket over the sea. Looking around he can see the centre of Dale standing proudly in the distance, the edge of town swallowed up by the fog.

Finally standing still, he notices how cold it is. It’s no surprise, really, considering it’s now October, and the sea is right in front of him, its waves fanning the crisp air against him. He bends down anyway, pulls at his laces, and slips of his shoes and socks. The sand is soft and cold under his bare feet, and the feeling of it brings a small smile to his face. He takes a deep breath, savouring the salty smell. One thing he’s always loved about coming down to the beach is the smell of the sea. Not to forget the sound of the waves there it rolls in over the sand, and smashes against the rocky walls a few meters up the beach, before pulling back as to draw a deep breath before it hits again.

 

 

**

 

“Bilbo!”

It’s eerie quiet outside, there’s no one else around, and barely any wind to make the leaves rustle. Thorin can only hear the ones under his boots, and the faint sound of waves. He knows how Bilbo is fond of the river not far from his house in Hobbiton, of the sea around Dale, and has always had to keep an eye open, terrified he would one day fall in and hurt himself. Or worse, drown somewhere. There’s a reason why the Baggins part of his family is afraid of big waters, folklore and relatives drowning, despite it being many years ago. But being part Took Bilbo is, of course, more adventurous, and has always been fascinated by rivers, waterfalls, and seas.

Thorin stomps off the path, through the trees, and towards the beach. Most of the view that usually meets him down here is hiding under a thick layer of fog. It’s draped across the sea, making its way across the beach, and there, in the middle of the beach sits Bilbo, his dark clothes a stark contrast from the fog and sand.

“Bilbo!” he shouts as he runs over to him.

“Thorin?” Bilbo frowns as Thorin falls to his knees beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? You’ve no idea how worried I’ve been!” Thorin’s brow is furrowed, his hands clenched at his sides, and Bilbo looks back at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo says. “Thorin, what’s wrong? Did you... You thought I’d fallen into the sea, didn’t you?” he chuckles.

“Of course I did!” Thorin growls. “At least answer your phone when you decide to be gone for so long!”

“Thorin, I... What the... Why are you so angry with me, I obviously haven’t drowned or anything!”

“Because I love you, Bilbo! I worry about you!”

“I love you too, Thorin, and I’m sorry, but why...”

“No.” Thorin sighs as he rubs his bearded cheek.

“No?” Bilbo frowns.

“No, I..”

Thorin grunts in frustration. “I _love_ you,” he says.

“Oh. _Oh_.”

“Oh, Thorin...” Bilbo says softly and smiles.

Moving to stand on his knees, and grabbing Thorin by the shoulders, he pulls him into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't hear my phone and you know I rarely check if someone's called.." 

"And I love you too,” he whispers into Thorin’s hair.

“You do?”

“Always have, and always will. I’ve just been an idiot and not noticed until recently.”

“Why are your clothes wet?” Thorin asks.

“Why did your hands instinctively go to my butt, that’s the question?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“But why are they wet?” Thorin asks again.

“Well,” Bilbo drawls, biting his lip as he sits back down. “I might’ve walked a bit too close to the water...”

Thorin looks down at Bilbo's clothes, the bottom of the trousers and the boots a shade darker than when Bilbo left the house.

“And you don’t have a coat,” he frowns. “You must be freezing.”

“A little bit.” Clearing his throat, Bilbo quickly adds; “but I’m alright, nothing to worry about, Thorin.”

“Come here,” Thorin says, opening his coat. He makes sure to get as much of it as possible around Bilbo, and Bilbo, with both hands holding onto Thorin’s shirt, snuggles close to his chest.

It doesn’t take long before Thorin notices how Bilbo has begun to shake. “Let’s go home,” he says, and it’s with a surprised shout of Thorin’s name Bilbo is pulled up and into Thorin’s arms.

 

 

**

 

 

The front door is flung open, Frerin’s wide worried eyes stare back at him, and Thorin guesses they must have seen him walking up the road with Bilbo in his arms. He can hear the kettle in the kitchen, the fire crackling, and Bofur is standing behind Frerin with his arms full of blankets.

“Get him straight to bed.” Gone is the always cheerful younger brother, and Thorin is both amazed and terrified as Frerin grabs his arm and drags him down the hallway, and into Bilbo’s bedroom.

“Take off his clothes. All of them. I’ll find some dry and warm ones for him.” And with that, Frerin disappears from the bedroom.

“What the hell’s going on?” Bilbo frowns. “I said I’m quite alright.”

He tosses the hoodie onto the floor anyway and takes off his shoes, the trousers and socks soon joining the pile. When nought but Bilbo’s boxers are left, he lies down on his bed under the duvet, and Thorin stands there looking at him for a moment.

Frerin barges into the room, Bofur right behind him. A pair of warm pyjama bottoms, and one of Thorin’s woollen jumpers is pushed into Thorin’s arms, the blankets put down on the bed.

“I told you a dryer was a good idea,” Frerin says with a wink and storms out of the room again.

“Ori!” Frerin shouts.

“Working on it!” Ori says loudly.

When Bilbo is dressed, Nori comes in with two of Bilbo's big pillows, which he puts at the head of the bed. And just as Bilbo’s sat down with his back against them, Ori comes in, two big cups of steaming tea in his hands.

“Sit down,” Ori says, and nods towards Bilbo’s bed. Thorin does as told, toes off his shoes, and pulls his legs up into bed, sitting down next to Bilbo.

“We’ll be in the living room if you need anything. Just shout.” Frerin gives the top of Bilbo’s head a kiss, and Bilbo stares at him with wide eyes.

“Uhm. I – thank you, for all this.”

When they’re all gone, and Bilbo reaches out for his mug, Thorin sees two small seashell roll out of his hand and onto the nightstand. Gently picking them up, he places them on top of his book of poems next to his lamp, before taking the mug, and Thorin finds it hard not to sigh aloud.

“What just happen?” Bilbo takes a sip of his tea, looking at Thorin over his cup.

“I might’ve texted Frerin I found you wet and cold by the beach.”

Snorting, Bilbo shakes his head.

 

 

**

 

 

There’s an arm around his waist, and Bilbo can feel Thorin lying right behind his back. Slowly opening his eyes, he notices his room is almost pitch black. The last he remembers is Frerin bringing them big bowls of delicious chicken soup Bofur had brought back from _The Blue Mountains_. Then he had told Thorin of what had happened, how he had only wanted to go for a walk, find some seashells, and a small wave had made him trip over his own feet and almost falling on his face. Thorin had sported the usual Durin frown, and sighed, but then he had smirked and mumbled about him of course not being like his family, the Took that he is.

After being told, and promised, never to do anything like that again, they had lied down side by side and talked. And by the looks of it, fallen asleep. Looking down, he realises he fell asleep with his clothes on, there’s a thick duvet along with a couple blankets over him, and it’s all making him too warm.

Turning over onto his back, Bilbo tries to wriggle off the pyjama bottoms he’s wearing. But the arm around him moves, and soon Thorin is staring blearily back at him in the dark.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

“Too warm,” Bilbo says, but his throat is sore and dry, and as the words leave his mouth, he begins to cough. He tries to swallow, and take a deep breath, but it only gets worse.

He sits up, pulls off the jumper, and kicks off the pyjama bottoms. Taking another deep breath, he only coughs more.

“Here.” When that large glass of water was put on his nightstand, Bilbo doesn’t know, but he takes it gratefully and gulps down half of it. As he holds out the glass for Thorin to take, Thorin lifts his hand up to Bilbo’s head instead. His hands are warm, and Bilbo finds himself tilting his head, chasing the warmth and comfort of Thorin’s hand as it gently slides across his cheek. Thorin’s fingers brush through his curls, stops on his forehead, and Bilbo can see the frown forming on Thorin’s own.

“You’ve got a fever,” he says, and Bilbo sighs. “I knew you’d get sick.” And now it’s Thorin’s turn to sigh.

“Let me guess, you already have paracetamol close?”

“Of course I do,” Thorin chuckles.

When he’s swallowed the pill, as well as the rest of his water, Bilbo falls back down against his pillows. Thorin lies down next to him again, and Bilbo turns his head to look at him. It doesn’t take long before Thorin is snoring lightly, and Bilbo bites his lower lip as not to giggle. There’s no denying it; Thorin is adorable when asleep. _And awake_ , he thinks.

Bilbo turns to lie on his side, facing Thorin, and as he does, he notices he’s taken off his t-shirt. He watches the steady rise and fall of Thorin’s chest, and drifts into a peaceful sleep to the comforting sound of Thorin’s breathing.

 

 

**

 

 

It’s only ten in the morning, much too early to Frerin’s liking, but with Bilbo and his brother in bed, there wasn’t much else to do than going to bed himself.

There’s no one in the living room or kitchen, and judging by how quiet it is, he’s the first one up and the only one awake.

“Well that’s a first,” Frerin mumbles to himself.

He walks over to Bilbo’s bedroom door, and as quietly as he can; opens it. He sticks his head in and smiles at the sight that meets him. Bilbo is lying on top of Thorin, his face in the crook of his neck, and hands lying relaxed at Thorin’s sides. His big brother, on the other hand, has one hand under the curls at the back of Bilbo’s neck, and an arm protectively around his waist.

This isn’t the first time they’re sharing a bed, or the first time they’ve held around each other when sleeping. But this is different, Frerin thinks. Thorin has never held anyone like that before, not even Bilbo has he held onto so tight before, as if he’s afraid something will happen to him or worried Bilbo might leave him, even if it means to roll over to his side of the bed to sleep without Thorin’s arms around him.

He’s always wanted his brother and best friend to be more than friends, but he hadn’t really thought one of them would have to almost drown for it to maybe happen. But he knows how much they love each other, how scared Thorin was yesterday, hell, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Thorin so worried before.

Frerin closes the door with a grin.

Rubbing a hand over his cheek, Frerin grabs a mug from the kitchen cupboard. Now it’s his turn to do something, his turn to make sure nothing happens to his family, especially his big brother. He needs to end things now.

 

 

**

 

 

Something’s not right. Too warm, Bilbo thinks. He turns his head a bit, and that’s definitely not his pillow under his cheek... Something’s tickling his nose, and Bilbo blinks. The sun is shining in through his window, and Bilbo blinks yet again to adjust to the sunlight.

The tickling only gets worse, and he opens his eyes to see two fingers and lots of dark hair. The hair comes closer to his face, and Bilbo’s nose twitches as the small tuft tickles him yet again. Thorin chuckles, and for a second Bilbo wonders why he’s moving up and down.

His eyes go wide, and Bilbo lifts his head up. Thorin looks up at him, and Bilbo’s breath hitches at the sight.

“Morning,” Thorin says, and his smile widens.

“I, - ah, good morning.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bilbo says, lifting his head further up so he can see Thorin better. “I didn’t mean to get on top of you during the night.”

Thorin only chuckles again, a low rolling sound, and Bilbo blushes at the thought of how nice it is to feel Thorin’s soft, warm skin under his fingers, his chest moving underneath him.

“I... I’ll just, let me just...”

With a hand on Thorin’s chest, he pushes himself up and begins to slide off his body. But a soft gasp stops him, Bilbo realising too late how he’s actually trying to get away as he moves again. His head falls gently down into the crook of Thorin’s neck, his cheeks burning.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

One of Thorin’s hands comes to rest lightly on Bilbo’s hip, pushing his lower body down gently as the muscles in Thorin’s thighs flexes, lifting his crotch up from the mattress. Biting his lip, Bilbo tries to suppress the moan that’s threatening to spill as their bodies move against each other.

The feeling of Thorin’s hardness against his body is strange, and Bilbo can feel a soft tickling in his stomach. The thought of how much he likes it, makes his cheeks burn and stomach flutter even more.

The warmth of Thorin’s body, his hold on Bilbo’s hips, is comforting. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo buries his face against Thorin’s neck. He has always thought Thorin smells good, and he inhales the scent, just because he can. It’s a lovely kind of warmth, like a crackling fire after standing in the rain an autumn evening, comfort and home, and a dash of fresh, deep, cologne, and simply just Thorin.

And it’s all so arousing, and without thinking, even noticing, he pushes himself down against Thorin, letting out a shuddering breath as he does. The hold on him tightens, and they both turn their heads to look at the other.

Their noses touch, and for a moment, all they do is stare at each other; bright, yet dark eyes searching for something in the others. Bilbo can feel Thorin’s hands move down from his hips, over his lower back, until they stop, hesitantly, before gently covering his bottom, making Bilbo let out a soft gasp. Thorin looks at him, a small smile on his lips, and Bilbo misses the grin as his own eyes flutter when Thorin pushes him down against himself again.

A small yelp fills the quiet room as Thorin rolls over onto his side, pulling Bilbo with him, and flush against him.

“What are we doing?” Bilbo whispers, his breath warm against Thorin’s lips.

“What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever thought about this, Bilbo?”

Bilbo purses his lips and tries not to smile. But Thorin knows him better than anyone, reads him better than anyone. And so he grins, and Bilbo nods, smiling shyly as a blush colours his cheeks.

 

Looking at Bilbo, his cheeks pink and lower lip between his teeth, Thorin can’t help but think of his first kiss. He had told Bilbo how awful it was to be 17 and un-kissed, and adorable 15-year-old Bilbo had looked up at him with his big blue-green eyes, frowned, and said, _“Why don’t you find someone to kiss then?”_ So that’s exactly what he had done. He’d grabbed Bilbo by the shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed him. He wasn’t sure what to expect, maybe Bilbo to push him away and gotten angry with him, but he had let out a surprised sound, before practically melted in Thorin’s arms. When they had separated, he had looked a little dazed, before blinking, frowning, and hissed, _“I didn’t mean me, though!”_ But he had also blushed and tried his best not to smile. 

His hand moves to Bilbo’s thigh, and he strokes the warm skin. He’s never told Bilbo that ever since then, he’d hoped they would experiment more, try more than sharing their very first kiss with each other, and small kisses after too many drinks. But it’s been pushed more and more to the back of his mind as the years progressed. Pushing it too far, craving more from Bilbo, risking their friendship, is something he’s never wanted to do.

But it’s not about trying just for the fun of it anymore. He doesn’t want Bilbo simply to satisfy his curiosity and sexual needs. There’s a deeper want, and it has scared him ever since he realised. But now he knows Bilbo feels the same way, and Thorin can’t help but smile.

“I...” Bilbo begins, and his nose twitches, “I’ve never... With myself of course, but never, I’ve ah...” He takes a deep breath and whispers quickly, “I’ve never done anything with someone else...”

“Neither have I.”

Bilbo looks up at him at that, a small crease forming over his eyebrows. “I thought you had?”

“If I had, you probably would’ve known. Besides, if there’s anyone I’d rather anything with, it’s you.”

“I guess it’s fitting our first time is with each other.”

“I don’t want anyone else, Thorin,” Bilbo whispers after a moment.

Thorin hums and pulls Bilbo close. “Neither do I.”

They both let out a small happy sigh and smile as they look at each other, and Bilbo thinks he might burst as Thorin cups his cheek and kisses him softly.

 

 

_**_

 

 

The door creaks as Bilbo pushes it open and peaks outside; the living room is warm and comfortable, with the sun casting a soft glow through the windows, the fire in the fireplace crackling. He can see Frerin on the sofa, his laptop in his lap, a cup of coffee in his hand.

Opening the door further, Bilbo quietly steps out into the living room. But Thorin isn’t far behind, and just as Bilbo steps over the threshold, he gives him a soft yet firm slap on his bottom.

“Thorin!”

Frerin turns around, an eyebrow raised. His surprised look quickly turns smug, and Bilbo knows Thorin is grinning as he bends down to kiss his curls.

“Well,” Frerin grins. “Looks like someone had a good night’s sleep. And a good morning as well I believe.”

Bilbo clears his throat to say something, but Thorin leans down and kisses him on the cheek and Frerin’s grin only gets bigger, and it’s all too much. He huffs, and all but run to the bathroom, the sound of Frerin’s laughter following him as he shuts the door behind himself.

“Did you have a good morning, brother?”

Thorin tries his best to frown, letting out a displeased grunt as he does, but Frerin only looks back at him with big blue eyes and a smile, and blended with the thoughts of the morning, the lingering feeling of Bilbo’s arms around him, his soft lips giving him small kisses, it’s hard not to smile.

Frerin laughs and Thorin drags a hand across his face, hiding his grin. “I’d ask if you’d like some coffee,” Frerin says, “but I’d rather suggest you go after Bilbo, enjoy a shower with him, and I’ll make us all some breakfast in the meantime.”

His hand slowly falls down against his side, and once again, Thorin wonders when his baby brother turned into an adult. He can’t help but find it a bit strange, how Frerin in the last couple of days has helped with cooking instead of nagging about when the meal is ready, actually cleaned up after himself, not to forget what a support and help he was yesterday; helping both Bilbo and himself. And now here they are, Thorin with warm red cheeks and unable to stop smiling, Frerin the serious one. Though, despite how much of an adult he seems, the jokes and clever comments along with the bright smile still isn’t far away.

“I saw you,” he says and Thorin’s eyes go wide. “Good god Thorin, not... You were _sleeping_.”

“Oh my god,” he gasps after a moment. “You... Already?”

Frerin shakes his head a little, the smile back on his face. “Who am I kidding? To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t earlier. I’m happy for you brother, and that you got together on your own so I won’t have to make you confess your love somehow,” he chuckles.

“Now go enjoy a hot shower, and make sure Bilbo puts on warm clothes, I heard him coughing like hell last night.”

Thorin blinks, and before Frerin is out of the sofa and on his way to the kitchen, he takes three steps forward and envelopes his brother in a tight hug. Frerin lets out an “oh” and chuckles, and Thorin turns towards the bathroom, determined to do exactly what his brother told him to.

 

“Thorin?” Bilbo asks as he rinses off the soap.

“Mhm?”

“Did you say my name because I came in, or did you think of me, when I walked in on you in the shower a week ago?”

“Latter,” Thorin chuckles.

“Thorin!” Bilbo laughs.

 

 

**

 

 

“Was it dad who called you earlier?” Frerin asks that evening after dinner. They’re all sitting on the sofa wrapped in blankets, Frerin in one end with his laptop, Thorin in the middle with Bilbo curled up against his side. The book he’s reading is thankfully so interesting he’s not paying attention to what’s going on around him, or Frerin is sure he would get a few angry looks sent his way soon. 

Thorin hums, and continues to run his fingers through Bilbo’s curls as he watches the TV.

“What did he want?”

“Me to come over, take a look at some papers about our finances, the mines, whatever, with him, uncle Náin, and Dáin.”

“Are you?”

Thorin hums in agreement again. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning. Why? Would you like to come with me?”

“Nah, thanks. I’ll stay here with Bilbs. You can tell them to come here, though, invite them over for dinner, Bilbs family as well.”

“Why?” Thorin asks and looks at him. 

“Why do you have to question me all the time?”

“Because inviting people over for dinner isn’t something you do, or I do for that matter.”

“Oh, you know... We might have something to celebrate!” he says, waggling his eyebrows as he nods towards Bilbo.

Thorin raises an eyebrow. “What the hell are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything,” Frerin says calmly, both to act innocent, but mostly to not attract Bilbo’s attention. Making Thorin believe nothing’s going on is one thing, convincing him with Bilbo looking at him as if he’d want to strangle him is another thing.

“Fine,” Thorin says after a while, and Frerin grins as his brother turns back to the TV, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he emails Nori.

“Tomorrow’s the day. I’ll call you as soon as Thorin’s out of the house.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Thorin?”

The house is quiet, with no one in the living room, and no fire crackling. He stands still for a moment, fumbles for his phone in his pocket, and texts Thorin. He can hear a hum, followed by “yeah, yeah, good” coming from the kitchen, the sound making his feet move instantly.

“Bilbo!” Frerin exclaims with a grin as he walks into the room. “You’re up, good!”

“Morning Bilbo,” Nori says, face partly hidden behind Frerin’s laptop.

“Please, sit down and have some breakfast,” Frerin says and jumps up from his chair. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Bilbo looks from Frerin to Nori, and back with narrowed eyes. Frerin keeps his back to Bilbo as he makes the tea, and Bilbo’s had enough of the awkward silence when he puts the cup down on the table in front of him.

“Alright, someone tell me what the fuck is going on.”

A predatory smile appears from behind the laptop screen, and Bilbo raises an eyebrow.

“We’re, ah, we’re in the middle of planning our evening.”

“More like at the end of it,” Nori adds.

He certainly didn’t miss how Frerin encompassed _our_ evening with a swipe of his hand towards both Nori, and himself, or how Frerin looks at him both nervous and gleeful.

“What about _our_ evening? And where’s your brother?”

Just then, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

_“Back home, I told you last night. And this morning. You weren’t properly awake when we talked this morning, were you? I’ll be home again tomorrow.”_

“Oh,” Bilbo breathes, and blushes when he re-reads the _“love you”_ at the end.

Frerin snorts and Bilbo tries to glare at the happy face in front of him, but as usual, Frerin makes it hard to be angry with him.

“We’ve figured out where Smaug’s office is, and when and how we can pay a visit.”

“You. Have. What?”

Bilbo’s stomach does an excited flip, followed by a nauseous feeling. It’s dangerous, it’s stupid, and they should just stay away. But at the same time, it’s thrilling, kind of like an adventure, and if they succeed... If they succeed, the Durins can finally live their life in peace.

“It’s about an hour away from here,” Nori says and turns the computer around, pointing at a map for Bilbo to see. “In the Grey Mountains.”

“Mairon Inc. is at the edge of the centre, just a minutes’ drive from all other businesses, and houses. Which makes it even easier for us since no one will see us. And once we’re –“

“Mairon Inc?”

Pulling out a chair, Frerin sits down at the end of the table, between Nori and Bilbo. “Yeah,” he says. “We found out that Smaug’s working under some dude called Mairon, and apparently Smaug’s the one in charge for something about the environment, mountains and lakes and stuff.”

Nori takes a sip of his coffee and looks at Frerin. “There's also a department working with gold, and jewellery there, and one with finances.”

“Let me guess,” Bilbo sighs, “They're all working together to take down your family?”

“Huh.” Frerin crosses his arms over his stomach as he slumps in his chair. “God dammit. Are they?” he glances sideways at Nori, who groans and drags a hand down his face.

“Think they might...”

“That can explain the fight dad and grandpa had with someone about stealing crystals and jewellery ages ago... Or not paying for it... Something like that.”

“So what are we going to do then?” Bilbo asks, before taking a bite of his toast slathered with butter and strawberry jam. 

“As I was trying to say,” Nori says, “once we’re at Mairon, we take the stairs at the back of the building up to the fourth floor, break us in, and if these drawings are right, Smaug’s office is to the right.”

“Sounds good.”

Bilbo furrows his brow as he looks at Frerin. “And then what?”

“We look through everything. Cupboards, drawers, computers... Anything, to see if we can find something to prove we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“And if not, we can always break into the office of the boss himself,” Nori says.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Bilbo groans.

It earns him a slap on the back and a grin from Frerin, and a wink and mischievous smile from Nori. And Bilbo can’t help but return a smile. He’s scared and feels horrible for what he’s about to do, but Frerin and Nori hopefully know what they’re doing. And in the end, he’s doing it to help the Durins.

 

**

 

Frerin and Nori spend most of the day planning, and apart from pitching in with something now and then, Bilbo tries his best to distract his mind from what he knows will happen soon.

The tv is a low hum in the background, the coffee machine’s hissing away in the kitchen, Frerin lets out an ‘oops’ as something falls down against the counter with a metallic clank, and Bilbo throws the book in his hands away, landing at the other end of the couch.

Reading alone isn’t something he’s new to, but Thorin’s usually always present, doing his own thing somewhere in the house, or right there next to Bilbo with a book of his own, and Bilbo realises how much he misses Thorin now that he’s not sitting beside him keeping him company. No hand combing through his curls, no shoulder to rest against, no thighs to lay his feet on, no deep rolling laughter making his stomach flutter.

And it hits him then. How much having Thorin close means, what it has done and is doing to him, what a big part of his life he is. And it’s exciting, and slightly frightening. He has loved Thorin ever since he first came over when Bilbo was just a baby, but he’s never really thought he might actually fall _in_ love with him. Until now.

He takes a deep breath, and Frerin looks at him worried, slowly raising an eyebrow.

“You alright?” he asks, and Bilbo rubs his eyes, and drags his hands up and down his face.

“Yeah. All good,” he says, and Frerin looks at him sceptically but smiles anyway.

“We’re all good to go now.”

“We... What?”

Bilbo turns around, legs falling over the side of the sofa and onto the floor as he does. And sure enough, the dim sunshine has faded away, traded place with the dark blue sky, the street lamps down the road making the road orange.

“We’re ready to go. I’ve made some coffee, and tea for you,” Frerin says, holding up two thermoses. “It wasn’t much of a dinner we had earlier, so I’ve asked Bofur to make a pizza for us. We’ll grab that and eat it on the way.”

“Alright... Sounds good.” He lets out a breath and puts on a smile, his insides yet again making him both excited and nauseous as he gets up from the sofa.

Nori comes almost skipping out of the kitchen, a grin on his face, a cola bottle in one hand and his laptop in the other. “Let’s go then, lads!”

 

 

**

 

  
"I called Thranduil," Frerin says from where he's sitting in the passenger seat, “said he’ll talk to Celeborn something, ask if they can take new tests of the water, earth, whatever it is they do to check if it’s contaminated.”

“You think Smaug’s had someone to take tests, and messed with them, in the past?”

“I mean,” Frerin sighs, “No one tells me fucking anything. But I know we’re supposed to be environmentally friendly, doing green mining. The lake beside the mountains aren’t supposed to be contaminated, we plant trees in the area – not chop ‘em down, alright some but we plant new ones.”

  
It’s much darker outside when they reach the Grey Mountains, and slowly make their way through the city to the edge where the streetlights, not any shop or house, are flooding the area with light. Bilbo feels nauseous as he looks at the five-story building, but glancing over at the two big pizza boxes next to him, he isn’t sure if it’s the nerves or too much pizza making him thus. Maybe both.

The building looms over them, seeming more and more threatening as they walk up to it. Swallowing nervously, Bilbo looks up, feeling himself getting dizzy already at the look of the stairs spiralling up the wall.

They walk up to it wordlessly, and Nori is the first up the stairs. Frerin stops, and holds out his arm, telling Bilbo to go after Nori when he frowns up at him.

“Don’t want to risk you running away,” he smirks. Bilbo huffs and rolls his eyes, but do as Frerin says. “Nor would I risk anyone catching or harming you first.” Frerin’s voice is quiet, almost hesitating, and Bilbo looks back at him, a small smile on his lips.

The metal barely makes any sound as they climb the stairs, and soon they’re outside the door leading to the fourth floor.

“So...” Bilbo says, “How do we open this thing?”

The door swings open, and Nori looks back at him smirking.

“Like that I suppose?” Frerin snorts.

Bilbo notices Nori putting something back in his pocket, and wants to know how on earth he just made it possible for them to get in, but Frerin pushes him inside and right now he finds he couldn’t care less. He just wants to do what they came here for, and go home.

Frerin fumbles for his phone in his pocket, and soon its torch is lighting up the dark hallway. “In here,” Nori says, opening the first door to their right.

“If you have to,” Frerin whispers as they enter the room, “use the light on your phones to see what you’re doing. If we turn on the lamps in here, we risk getting visitors.” But thankfully, the moon and streetlamps light up the office enough for them to see what they need to. They all nod, give each other a smile, and set to work.

Frerin and Nori start with the computer, it’s placed in the middle of the room, on a dark desk, thankfully facing the door so the light from the screen won’t be too noticeable from outside the hallway. They grin when they see the desktop, and it doesn’t take long before several folders are open, along with Smaug’s email.

There are bookshelves and cupboards lining the walls by the door and the desk, and letting out a loud sigh, Bilbo walks over to one of the bigger cupboards. It’s locked, of course. He grabs the knob of another door, locked. “Fuck,” he mutters. “It’s locked,” he says a little louder. He tries another, and another, and there’s the sound of a drawer opening behind him.

“Here,” Frerin says, throwing a key over to him, “try this.”

It fits, cupboard after cupboard opens up for him, and he smiles as he bites his lower lip. They consist of binders and filing cabinets, and Bilbo lowers down to make himself comfortable on the floor, and takes out everything he can find, from one cabinet after the other.

“Angband... Mordor...” he whispers to himself, shuffling through the folders in the third filing cabinet. His legs are getting numb, and he stands up, taking the pile of folders with him. “Rohan, Iron Hills, Greenwood... Why do these people have stuff about Greenwood?” Frerin glances at him, and shrugs, and Bilbo moves the folder to the bottom of the pile, making a mental note to check it later.

“Gondor... Enedwaith... Erebor...”

“Erebor!”

He can hear a door further down the hall open, and he holds his breath. Tiptoeing over to the door, he looks through the window next to it. Soon, there are two figures moving towards the stairs leading down.

“Hide!” Bilbo hisses as he slides down against the door, landing on his butt with a thud, the folders held tight against his chest. Frerin and Nori instantly fall down onto the floor, the latter somehow remembering to turn off the computer screen right before he does. Bilbo can hear the door close, and daring a glance out the window, he can see another man following the other two down the stairs.

“What’s happening?” Frerin whispers.

“Three people left one of the rooms furthest down the hallway. Went downstairs,” Bilbo whispers. “One of them looked familiar. Tall and slim, long silvery hair.”

“That might be Mairon?” Frerin whispers looking at Nori.

“Might be, sounds like him, judging by the photos we found earlier today.”

Soon they hear a car drive away, and all let out a breath of relief.

“Thank fuck we parked behind the building. I don’t know if I should be happy or worried you know what you’re doing,” Frerin chuckles, gently bumping his shoulder against Nori’s who only laughs and moves to sit up.

“Did you find anything, Bilbs?” Frerin asks as he crawls over to where Bilbo is sitting.

“I did.”

Releasing his hold on the files, he lets them fall into his lap, and picks up the one with Erebor written on it. Opening it, he finds papers on the Durins, their mountains, mining, jewellery business, lists that look like levels and tests of something.

“Are these... Are these levels of things they’ve tested the lake and stuff for?” Bilbo asks, handing the paper to Frerin.

“Wait,” he says, “there’s one here as well. But this one’s from Mairon.”

“While this is from Iron Hills,” Frerin says.

“The levels on things here is much higher. I don’t understand... These documents and graphs look the same, apart from the name of the companies, and the levels.”

“Isn’t it someone in the Iron Hills who do the testing?” Nori asks. He’s sitting in front of the computer again, scrolling and typing away while looking at the screen as if it’s offended him.

“I think it is,” Frerin says.

“But...” Bilbo looks down at the paper in his hands, then the paper Frerin is holding. “Does that mean Mairon has somehow gotten their hands on this document, changed the levels, and made it look like they’re the ones who’s tested everything?”

“They really have made it look like we’re not environmentally friendly, at all. Fucking bastards.”

“Found it!” Nori exclaims, “Let me see the papers you got, I think I might have the same ones here.”

Bilbo grabs Frerin’s outstretched arm, and lets himself be pulled up, and towards the desk.

“It’s the same,” Frerin says as soon as he sees the documents from Iron Hills open on the computer, he hands the document in his hands to Nori, and bends to see the screen better.

“What does the email say?” Frerin asks, and Nori closes the document so he can read it.

The documents were sent to Smaug, telling him it is the correct levels, meaning all is well and the Durins’ work is definitely environmentally friendly, and for him to do as he pleases with. And as the email address confirms, it’s from someone in the Iron Hills.

“They’ve got someone in the Iron Hills working for them... I bet dad doesn’t know about this, or uncle Náin for that matter.”

“Looks like it.”

“What do we do now?” Bilbo asks. He can feel a sense of relief wash over him, pleased they’ve actually found something that can help the Durins end this.

“I’ll make sure I’ve got copies of all the documents and emails we’ve found on Smaug and Mairon Inc.’s design copying and falsification of documents. I’ll get it all onto my phone now.”

“And then, when we’re home again...” Nori says grinning, “I’ll send it to Thranduil and Bard. Tell them to wait a couple days, and then Bard can do what he wants and write about it everywhere for all I care.”

“Should we tell Thorin?”

Both Frerin and Nori looks at Bilbo. “No.”

“It’s just...” Frerin sighs, “I doubt we’re wrong about this, I mean, just look at what we’ve found. But I don’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up but my own, I don’t want this to fail and for everyone to be disappointed...”

“Not to mention how angry he’d be at me, especially for dragging you into this,” Frerin chuckles, and Bilbo lets out a small laugh.

“We’re not wrong,” he says, putting an arm around Frerin’s shoulders. “I refuse to be wrong, because there’s no fucking way I break into a god damn building an hour away from home for your family just for us to fail!”

Frerin and Nori laughs, and Bilbo pats Frerin on the head before taking the document in Nori’s hand. He puts it back in its folder, collects all the other, and puts them back into the filing cabinet.

“Do we have everything we need now?” he asks, and hands the key to the cabinets back to Nori.

“Yeah, think we do. This seems too easy,” Nori says.

“Nah, it’s just us who are really good. And Smaug’s too stupid,” Frerin laughs.

“Let’s make sure it all look like it did when we got here, and leave.”

  
It really has been a little too easy Bilbo thinks when they walk back down the stairs. So it doesn’t come as a too big of a surprise that when they reach the first floor, he can see a man through the window.

“Run!” he hisses and puts a hand on Frerin’s back, pushing him forward.

“What the hell?”

“There’s someone in there, run you idiot!”

Frerin grabs Bilbo’s hand, and together they run down the last four steps. They crash into Nori, making him elicit a grunt. Frerin takes his hand and pulls him along over the grass and towards the car.

It’s cold out, the air making their throats and lungs burn, and the grass under their feet are wet from rain and dew. Squeezing Bilbo’s hand, Frerin tries to hold on to him but can feel the smaller hand slip out of his grasp and disappear. There’s a loud splash and a groan as Bilbo’s feet stumbles and slides over the grass, and he falls, knees digging into the small muddy trail they crossed.

“For fuck’s sake!” Frerin exclaims.

Bilbo pushes himself up, muddy hands struggling against the wet ground. There’s a hand on his arm, grabbing him hard and pulling him up. Raising his head, Frerin looks at him with one of his rarely seen Durin frown and hard eyes. But his mouth betrays him, and soon his laughter cracks the angry face.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispers. “For a second I thought someone had grabbed you... But of course, it’s just you stumbling away like always.”

Bilbo opens his mouth, not sure whether to say sorry or be offended, but Frerin grabs his arms and pulls him close, and he buries his face in Frerin’s hoodie as the arms tighten around him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “let’s get away from here.”

The chest against his cheek vibrates. “Let’s.”

 

 

**

 

  
Nori starts shouting orders as soon as the door closes behind them. Send an email to this, tell this one that.

“What did we just do?!”

Frerin can hear the panic in Bilbo’s voice, see his hands tremble, and must admit that his own heart is beating unusually fast. Bilbo stares at him, his eyes wide and jacket halfway off his shoulders. Frerin stares back, puts on a smile, and reaches out for Bilbo. He falls easily enough against him, and the guilt of dragging Bilbo along washes over him.

“Why did you say yes to this?” he mumbles into Bilbo’s shoulder.

“Because I love your brother, and you, you idiot. And your whole family.” Bilbo sighs, his lips curving into a small smile.

“You really do love my brother, don’t you?”

“Yeah...”

Bilbo can feel Frerin’s laughter more than hear it, his soft breath warming his cheek, the chest moving against him.

“Good. About damn time you both realised it.”

“But Bilbo, seriously...” Frerin takes a deep breath, tightening his hold on Bilbo as he does. “Thank you, thank you for everything you’ve ever done for us, for what you just did. I really think we’ve struck gold, we’ll get those bastards now.”

Bilbo tilts his head back, and it’s impossible not to smile when all he can see is Frerin’s shining eyes and grin. “We better.”

They know what they’ve done, but they know it’s right, and that right now they’re safe, that right now, they have to share the correct information, share Mairon’s web of lies with the right people, and then... What happens will happen.

“Struck gold,” Bilbo laughs.

 

 

**

 

 

“Thranduil just texted me,” Frerin yawns, “says they’re gonna take some tests this evening, apparently dad didn’t suspect anything, more than happy to have them over.”

“Good. Hopefully, they’ll prove this shit wrong,” Nori growls, waving the copy of Mairon’s tests in the air.

They’ve looked it up and down, looked through the photos of everything they found. Bard’s been contacted, told to wait until they have the test results, that if Thranduil’s tests are different from Mairon’s, he’ll get the false results, and are then free to write an article about it all. And according to Frerin, both Thranduil and Bard knows a Miss Lórien who’ll most likely be able to help them get the right people to sort this mess, and get it all over the news in no time.

It’s all finally planned and done, everything now on hold until tonight, and all adrenaline and energy Bilbo had hours ago are gone. His eyes are sore, mouth dry, the rest of his sandwich and tea no longer tempting.

Outside, the sun is starting to rise behind the trees, its golden glow lighting up the dewy garden. Bilbo tries to cover his yawn, failing spectacularly as his hand falls back into his lap, his never-ending yawn making his face hurt.

“Go to bed,” Frerin says, “there’s nothing more we can do now, so we might as well all go.”

“Alright.” The chair moves loudly over the kitchen floor, making a dozing Nori jump in his own.

“Move to the sofa, bit more comfortable.”

Nori grunts, but does as Bilbo says, and it doesn’t take long before the house is quiet, everyone having fallen asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow, while the world outside is just waking up.

 

 

**

 

 

He can hear the coffee maker in the kitchen, and Frerin’s familiar humming, so Thorin follows the sounds, only to find his brother, and Nori, slouching by the kitchen table.

“You look horrible.”

“Evening, brother,” Frerin says with a small smile, his eyes barely open.

“Where’s Bilbo?”

“Bed.”

“What? It’s almost two in the afternoon!”

Frerin only shrugs and yawns, and turns away from Thorin to fill two mugs of the now finished coffee.

With a shake of his head, Thorin walks back out to the living room, and quietly into Bilbo’s bedroom. He can’t help but smile, and it only grows as he looks at Bilbo. He’s lying on his stomach, wearing Thorin’s navy hoodie and sweatpants, with his legs spread wide, one arm under his pillow, the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

Bilbo doesn’t stir as he lies down beside him, back against the wall. With messy curls, face pressed against the pillow, and said pillow having a small patch of drool on it, it’s hard not to smile at the sight, and Thorin can feel the butterflies in his stomach again. It’s weird, he thinks, how he’s felt this way before, many years ago, and how the feelings now are back only so much stronger. It’s both strange and exciting, being in love and allowing himself it now knowing Bilbo feels the same way. Deep down he’s always been in love with Bilbo, and words can never explain how thankful and happy he is that they’re now together, as boyfriends. Bilbo almost drowning, he could’ve been without, but he must admit that what happened after is why they’re now boyfriends, not just friends.

“Thorin...” Bilbo mumbles softly into his pillow, and the mention of his name pulls Thorin out of his thoughts. Bilbo is still asleep, but is now smiling. Scooting closer, Thorin puts an arm around his waist. He kisses the curls, then Bilbo’s cheek, followed by his nose, and Thorin chuckles as Bilbo’s nose twitches adorably.

He kisses him on the cheek again, and Bilbo yawns in response. His eyes open slowly, and Bilbo smiles when he sees Thorin.

“You’re home,” he says softly, his voice a little hoarse.

“And you’re sleeping the day away,” Thorin says.

Bilbo puts an arm around him, and shuffles closer. Thorin’s arm tightens around him, the warm comfortable feeling more than welcome, and Bilbo smiles at the thought of how wonderful it is to have Thorin home again, and so close.

“Mmm, it feels as if I’m about to burst,” he mumbles and hides his face against Thorin’s chest.

Thorin chuckles and kisses Bilbo’s curls again. “Me too love, me too.”

 

“What did you get up to while I was gone?” Thorin asks after a while.

“You’ll see.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop falling Bilbo, you're embarrassing me


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh dear, aren’t you two just suddenly disgustingly adorable.” Frerin sticks a finger in his mouth, making a gagging sound as he walks past the sofa on his way to the kitchen.

“Oh look, the annoying little brother is back.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo giggles.

They’re snuggled up on the sofa, Thorin in the corner, Bilbo between his legs, and the arm around his waist tightens. Thorin’s chest vibrates against Bilbo’s back, his deep, rolling laughter a lovely sound in his ears, his breath warm against his neck, and Bilbo can feel his cheeks go warm, his body all tingly.

They’ve spent most of the time since Thorin came home yesterday in each other’s arms. And sitting here now, back against Thorin, getting kisses now and then on the neck and cheek, seeing the rain pour down outside and hearing the fire roar in the fireplace, Bilbo can’t think of a time he’s been as happy or happier than he is now.

“Did you like it?” Thorin asks as Bilbo takes another sip of his tea.

He hums, and lets his head fall back onto Thorin’s shoulder. While in Hobbiton, he had gone to Bilbo’s aunt Mirabella’s shop to buy one of Bilbo’s favourite teas, his aunt’s homemade chamomile. And not only had he come home with said tea, but another box of tea with lemon, raspberry, and lavender, along with a big heart box of creamy milk chocolate hearts. It had all been so new and strange to them, to both give and receive such gifts, it had left Bilbo at a loss for words, his cheeks growing warm and red. Then Thorin had kissed him, and they had all but melted against each other.

He reaches out for another chocolate, the box now only half-full, and looks up at Thorin as he takes the piece from Bilbo’s hand with his mouth.

 

Too wrapped up in each other, and the books they’re reading, neither Bilbo nor Thorin hears the front door open, Frerin greeting and letting someone in, or anyone coming into the living room. Not until...

“Well, look at you two! About time my dears!”

Bilbo’s book goes flying across the sofa, landing in the lap of a now laughing Frerin.

He can feel his heart beating faster than usual, and Thorin’s arm tightening its hold around him.

“Good God, mum!”

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Belladonna giggles. She sits down beside them, and Bilbo lets his body fall back against Thorin.

“For some reason, I don’t really believe you,” he chuckles.

“It’s so good to see you again, my little bee!”

Bella leans closer to them, throwing an arm around them both as she hugs them.

“You too mum,” Bilbo says softly, taking his mother’s hand in his.

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were together when you visited yesterday?” Bella asks Thorin, a small frown on her forehead.

“I, ah...” Thorin clears his throat. “We hadn’t really talked about it, or told anyone?”

“Of course you haven’t,” Bella laughs. “How long?”

“Two days,” Bilbo says.

“Aha, well, I’m happy for you. I must say, I have been waiting a while!” Bella grins as she squeezes Bilbo’s hand.

“A while!” Frís laughs. She makes her way over to them, and hugs both tight before sitting down next to Bella. “We’ve waited years! Now haven’t we darling,” she says, patting Bella’s thigh, both of them laughing.

“Mum,” Thorin says softly.

“Aw!” Dís exclaims with a grin as she walks into the living room, her four and six-year-olds trailing after her, along with her husband, Víli.

“Look at you two!” Bungo says happily, grinning at them when he pops up behind Thráin. “About time, son!”

“Why does everyone says it’s about time?” Bilbo asks frowning, and turns sideways to look at Thorin, who only shrugs. “And why are you all here? No offence, but I’ve clearly missed out on something.”

“Because you’ve basically been together without knowing it for at least the last ten years... Maybe twenty,” Dís says, letting out a dramatic sigh as she sits down.

Thorin chuckles, and pulls Bilbo close to him, giving the top of his head a kiss.

“And they’re here because Frerin told me to invite them all,” Thorin says.

Looking over at Frerin at the end of the sofa, who smiles, points at the phone in his hand and gives Bilbo a thumbs up, he feels he might cry of relief.

 

 

It’s been a while since any of their family visited, and Bilbo thinks he now knows why they haven’t all been here at the same time before. Their house is full of people, just enough space for them and enough to sit on with the sofa and kitchen chairs. Just after everyone was seated in the living room, Nori, Ori, Dwalin, and Gandalf showed up, his grand-uncle making Frerin sit on a chair, taking the sofa seat himself, the rest having to resort to the floor and big pillows.

Dís has brought wine, their parents have made cheese platters, and there’s bowls of crisps and cookies on the coffee table, along with tea and coffee, and hot chocolate for Fili and Kili, the boys eagerly stuffing their faces with their Nan’s cookies.

Bilbo laces his fingers with Thorin’s, squeezing his hand as he looks at their family. They’ve always been like one big family, and seeing them all together again, eating, talking, and joking, he can’t help but smile. He misses them all so much, and he knows now that it’ll soon be time to go home.

 

 

"Hey Bard," Frerin says into his phone, before taking a big sip of his wine. Bilbo can hear Bard’s loud voice, and soon Frerin chokes on his drink, the sound followed by loud laughter. Bilbo looks up at him, both of their eyes widening with realisation.

“Bilbo!” he shouts, “turn on channel two!”

Everyone looks from Frerin to Bilbo, most sporting a confused look. Except for Gandalf, who’s looking smug where he’s sitting, elbow resting on the armrest.

“Why?” Thráin asks, but Frerin waves his father’s words away. “Come on, Bilbo!”

“It’s only news there now, why are you suddenly interested in the ne-“ But Thorin stops, gasps, and everyone’s eyes turn big as Smaug’s angry face fills the screen.

 _“Smaug, together with his boss of Mairon Inc., Mister_ _Mairon himself, and the well-known criminal, Azog, has been found guilty of the fire on the Durins' property five years ago, along with forgery of documents making it look as if the Durins' businesses, both Erebor and Iron Hills, wasn’t environmentally friendly.”_

“How did they...” Thráin whispers.

“How indeed...” Thorin says. Just then, Frerin’s hand stops in front of his face, and Bilbo’s smaller one meets it with a loud smack, both of them giggling.

“DID YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS?” Bella exclaims. Her mouth is in a tight line, brow furrowed, and Bilbo tries his best not to grin as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Maaaybe...”

“You two did this?” Thorin whispers stunned.

“And Nori,” Frerin says.

Thorin turns to Bilbo, his face a mixture of anger and confusion, and Bilbo thinks there’s fear as well in those blue eyes.

“Bilbo,” Thorin says softly, “why?”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you have all the fun,” Bilbo says and bites his lip. “I wanted to help...”

 

"Shush!" Dís shouts. She grabs the remote from Bilbo, and turns up the volume.

_“I am here with Thranduil Oropherion from Mirkwood, and Thranduil, I understand you have worked with the Durins recently and are somehow the first to find out about the forged documents?”_

_“Correct,”_ Thranduil smirks. _“I were informed about what might have happened, what Mairon Inc. had done, and was one of the first to receive the documents when they were found.”_

_“Do you know who sent you the documents?”_

_“I do. Who they are is not up to me to share, but I can tell you they are close friends of mine, and very close to the Durin family.”_

“No shit,” Frerin chuckles.

_“So yesterday you, as well as your colleagues from Mirkwood, went to Erebor to run tests to see if they really are as environmentally friendly as they and the tests run by the Iron Hills claim to be, or if Mairon Inc. were right to claim them as not, correct?”_

_“That’s correct. We work close with both Erebor and Iron Hills, but we very rarely do the testing, however, we were asked to do it now since the ones who usually does it apparently cannot be trusted. We also wanted the testing to go unnoticed from as many as possible, apart from Thráin.”_

_“So you had Thráin’s approval?”_

_“We did.”_

“Oh,” Thráin says, “so that’s why they came over.”

_“And when did you receive the documents claiming the previously run tests were falsified?”_

_“Early yesterday morning. We then went to Erebor not long after.”_

_“Everything seems to have moved pretty quickly. These documents made the police’s investigations of Mairon and the rest much easier, and gave them the reason to look for more evidence.”_

Thranduil chuckles. _“Someone finally gave them the nudge they needed to take up their investigation. The documents made them look for more, and it resulted in finding out about Azog and Smaug’s old plans for setting fire to the Durins’ property. They are still looking for the crystals and jewellery Thrór once claimed Smaug stole, but it looks like he was right about them doing so, along with copying their jewellery designs.”_

_“Do you have anything to say about the ones who’s acquired the evidence you received?”_

_“They did a wonderful job, and I’m glad the bastards now get what they deserve, and the Durins get their peace.”_

 

To Bilbo, it’s no surprise both Frerin and Nori burst out in laughter and cheer, and he finds it hard not to join them. The rest is still glued to the TV, and looking back to it, Bilbo can see Mairon, Azog, and a few others being led by the police out of the building they broke into only two days ago. Then there’s a photo of a Galadriel Lórien and her husband Celeborn, who are apparently responsible for much of the legal bits of the mess and pushing the police to take up the investigation, and then there’s a mention of...

“Gandalf?” Bilbo exclaims, “What the hell did you have to do with this?”

“Well,” Gandalf chuckles, “It’s amazing what you can do when you know the right people, like Galadriel.”

Bella growls, turning in her seat with her hands on her hips to look at Gandalf. “What did you have to do with this? I demand an explanation! Making my son into some burglar!”

“I didn’t make him do anything! I only gave him a little nudge.”

“Did you send Frerin here? You said anyone could break into that office, something about technology, and that you knew someone who could help?”

“Nah,” Frerin shrugs. “He just told me you guys were having a party, and since none of you invited me I invited myself.”

“Wait,” Frerin mumbles, Bilbo rolling his eyes at him. “That's why you called me, to get me here? Not because dad didn’t answer his phone and you wondering where he was...”

“That might be true,” Gandalf smiles.

“You!” Bella says angrily, pointing at Gandalf. “Can be very glad it all turned out as well as it did, and that nothing happened to our boys!”

Frís only shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “I must say I agree.” She takes Bella and Bilbo’s hands in hers. “But you did well, and I am glad you’ve helped and stopped this before it got worse.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” Bilbo says, leaning against her side.

“Oh, sweetheart.” With a hand around Bilbo’s shoulders, Bella hugs him tight and kisses his curls. “You’ve always wanted to help everyone, especially Thorin...” she sighs. “Always wanted to be a little hero... I guess I read a bit too many fairy tales for you when you were younger.”

“He’s just like you, darling,” Bungo laughs, bending down over the back of the sofa to give Bilbo a hug, and his wife a kiss.

“Ah, that’s the problem!” Bella laughs.

 

“Thank you, all three of you,” Thráin says teary eyed, “I can’t believe you’ve done this, thank you, truly. I don’t... I don’t know what to say.”

“No, no crying, you never cry!” Frerin jumps up from his chair and into his father’s now open arms. “You’re going to make me cry!”

“Bilbo...” Thorin says softly. “Thank you, but don’t you ever do something so foolish again.”

“I promise.”

Thorin hugs him close, Bilbo easily falling against his chest. He kisses his temple, lips brushing over the soft curls, and Bilbo’s body relaxes in his arms.

There’s a knock on the door, and Bofur walks in, a small tower of pizza boxes in his arms.

“Dinner’s ready!” Frerin says, laughing when his mother raises a brow.

“I thought you were going to cook for us.”

“Nah, too many of you.”

“And I’d like my kitchen to still be here in the morning,” Bilbo smiles.

 

After the news, it doesn’t take long before their phones start ringing. Dáin is the first, followed by Thranduil, Galadriel, and a handful of friends and family.

“I haven’t done anything!” Thráin says loudly into his phone, waving a pizza slice around as Thrór shouts at him. “It was your damn grandson! Who? Frerin of course! Oh, I know Thorin is the most stubborn one and the one I thought could’ve have done this, in fact, he reminds me of someone I know!”

“Just another normal conversation with your grandad, I see,” Bilbo chuckles.

“Yes, yes... Yes I’ll tell him he’s an idiot and you’re proud of him,” Thráin chuckles, pointing at a grinning Frerin.

 

  
**

 

 

"I guess it's really over then,” Bilbo says when they’re in bed later that night, and Thorin hums in agreement.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that it is,” Thorin mumbles into Bilbo’s curls. “There will still be some investigation going for a while but, it’s over.”

“Hopefully things can go back to how it was before all this.”

“It would be fantastic if the business would pick up again,” Thorin says with a small smile.

“You would have to work more then, back home I mean.”

“Mhm.”

“You know,” Bilbo says, looking at Thorin. “I’ve quite forgotten why you came to Dale in the first place.”

Thorin laughs and gives the top of Bilbo’s head a kiss. “To try and help get new clients, and to sell this house. Víli used to live here, and rented it out after moving in with Dís.”

“Why did you let me move in if you were going to sell it?”

“There was no interest at the time, so I decided to live here myself, work here instead of at home. And then... Then I wanted to stay for as long as you wanted to. ”

Bilbo puts his arm around Thorin’s waist. “So what do we do now? We’re done with Smaug and those people, I’ve finished school.”

“I think we know,” Thorin says softly against his lips, and gives him a kiss.

“Let’s go home again, Thorin,” Bilbo smiles, and Thorin gives him another kiss.

“Did you know Gandalf is opening a café in Hobbiton? Right next to my auntie’s shop.”

“Is he now...” Thorin smirks.

“Told me this evening, said I’d be more than welcome to work there if I would like to.”

“Good timing, don’t you think.”

Bilbo snorts, “It is Gandalf we’re talking about.”

“I’m glad he’s always got something up his sleeve,” Thorin says.

“What if we had a large open doorway into auntie’s shop, and it wouldn’t just be a café and bookshop, but with tea and interior things too?”

“I have a feeling business might bloom in Hobbiton soon,” Thorin chuckles.

“The youngsters breathing life into sleepy Hobbiton, oh the scandal!”

“As long as it’s a nice café and not a night club, I think we’re fine,” Thorin says, making Bilbo laugh.

 

Bilbo can’t help but smile. He’s loved his time in Dale with Thorin, but he’s wanted to go home for a while now. And now that what’s kept them here isn’t in their way anymore, and Thorin will go back with him, there’s really no reason to stay.

With both arms around Thorin, Bilbo pulls him into a tight hug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! :D 
> 
> To be honest, I really like this lil fic, but I'm not as happy with the ending as I'd like to be. But I am very happy with finishing it, it's ages since I first started writing this fic, so it's great to be done!  
> Big thanks to everyone who's read it, and especially to everyone who's given me kudos and lovely comments, thank you!! <3 
> 
> And you bet I'm already writing on something else haha. [My autumn fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238275) is hands down the best fic I've written, and I'm very happy to tell you guys I've decided to make it into a series, a one shot for every season! The winter one should be up soon, with spring not far behind :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always welcome (even if it's been years since I posted this), appreciated, and replied to! :)  
> And if you find anything weird or wrong, please tell me!
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on tumblr!](http://gaaladrieel.tumblr.com/)  
> [This story's tumblr post](http://gaaladrieel.tumblr.com/post/157577641090/home-is-where-the-heart-isbilbo-bagginsthorin)


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